Mara, Weyrling Brown Rider
by Pern Dreamer
Summary: A thirty-one turn woman has impressed brown Klamath. This story covers their rather unusual weyrling training. Sequel to Mara's Story. Chapter 39 has been added.
1. Prologue

Dragonriders of Pern is the copyrighted property of Anne and Todd McCaffrey.

I earn nothing but enjoyment from this bit of fan fiction, paid with reviews.

Thank you, Lady and Lord McCaffrey, for allowing us to play with your creation!

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A BRIEF SYNOPSIS OF MARA'S STORY:

Eleven days prior to the beginning of this story, Mara had been a dock worker of thirty-one turns at Keroon Harbor working for her father. She dressed as a man and had the build of a man, being quite tall and quite muscular beneath her bulk.

She, like her mother, has always heard dragons as they flew over, wherever her family was living at the time. Also like her mother, she could hear people's thoughts, but had carefully shielded herself from the onslaught. She and her mother, though, often 'talked' to each other when she was young.

When her mother died in childbirth (Mara was six turns at the time), Mara wound up taking care of her two younger brothers. As her father was rather despotic and extremely controlling, she was not allowed any help from other women, but was helped by a dragon whose rider had some knowledge of caring for children. Mara never knew who the rider was, and being very young at the time, didn't even think to ask the dragon's name.

Over the intervening turns, she became known to the dragons, always willing to talk to them as they flew over, if they weren't too busy. Some dragons even told their riders about her. At the age of ten, she was searched by F'lar and a blue rider, neither aware of her extreme youth. As she was caring for her younger brothers, though, she refused search. F'lar, being rather desperate for riders, offered to take her brothers to the Weyr as well. His payment for such a kind offer was a punch to the face from Mara's father. The search riders left without a new candidate.

Twenty-five turns later, Mara still lived with, worked for, and took care of her father, still honoring her mother's dying request. On a Gather day at Keroon Harbor, her father, liking his ale and wine far too much, and feeling that Mara ate too much of his drinking allowance, sold her to a rather enterprising, but immoral drunk. Her new 'owner' then sold her to an assortment of drunken men in an abandoned beast hold. She had been knocked unconscious, but during a semi-lucid and extremely desperate moment called to all the dragons of Pern for help.

Four bronze riders from Benden Weyr were sitting in a small eating establishment at the Gather when the call went out.

Bronze rider G'raden, originally from a small hold in Keroon, was a giant of a man with a temper to match. He had been injured sometime in his youth, and still spoke in broken sentences unless he was extremely comfortable or reciting an often told tale. Thirty turns earlier, at the age of ten, he impressed bronze Normond. Normond had originally been Normonth, but when his 'perfect' lifemate bit his tongue announcing his name, he immediately changed his name to Normond. (Say both names and notice where your tongue is.)

Bronze riders and Wingleaders G'regg and B'nor had been G'raden's best friends for over thirty turns and even impressed Arlith and Parneth at the same large hatching where G'raden impressed Normond.

Bronze rider T'men was a recent transferee from Ista Weyr. Fifteen turns earlier, at the age of eighteen, Tarlamen was an apprentice Harper, rumored to be about to ascend to the rank of Journeyman Harper. While attending a hatching at Ista Weyr with other apprentices, he unexpectedly impressed Reyuth, and his life was turned upside down. He had planned since childhood to follow in his parents footsteps in Harper Hall, and found teaching to be his special talent and interest.

The four Benden bronze riders stormed the dilapidated beast hold, at Normond's direction, and cleared out the waiting 'customers'. G'raden flew the big unconscious and brutalized woman to Benden Weyr 'where she belongs' he declared.

Weyrwoman Lessa took a special interest in Mara due to her calling all the dragons on Pern, something Mara didn't remember, but reluctantly admitted she may well have done unintentionally. Lessa and F'lar quickly learned of her ability to hear people as well, and they learned to think to each other, something Lessa said could be very useful, but should not be used needlessly. Mara's simple, but optimistic outlook on life in general also interested Lessa and they became friends.

It was also discovered that Mara had never been allowed any form of education. Even her limited language skills were learned mostly by conversing with dragons. T'men was asked to first assess her learning abilities and then to tutor her. Lessa wanted Mara's help (and her special abilities) at the Weyr, but preferred educated help. T'men found her to be a very quick study, 'like a large very dry sponge in the middle of the Igen desert at high sun in midsummer', and began her training with earnest enthusiasm.

G'raden also took an interest in Mara, as she was so sweet and kind, and didn't seem the least bit bothered by his speech problems. As a matter of fact, she had such a calming effect on him that his problem was barely noticeable in her presence.

Mara also took an interest in G'raden. Not only had he rescued her from a near fatal situation in Keroon, he had brought her to Benden Weyr! Due to his rather scary appearance, she had instinctively listened to some of his thoughts, and found him to be a kind, gentle, caring man. She also recognized the intelligence hidden by his speech problem.

Between classes with T'men and time spent with G'raden, Mara 'earned her keep' by assisting Weyrlingmaster L'ret. Due to her still recuperating status, she did very light drudge work, read L'ret's class transcripts, and assisted weyrlings in interpreting what they were feeling from their dragons. It had been learned earlier that Mara, with a simple touch, could feel anything a dragon felt.

T'men still maintained contact with Harper Hall through his longtime friend and current Masterharper, Sebell. The Masterharper visited Benden Weyr to meet and assess Mara himself. After an afternoon of playful testing, he asked if she would be willing to help with a 'special assignment'. She later met Master Harper Mekelroy, who also tested her and agreed that she, with her special talents, could be an asset to the assignment. Harpers posing as common drudges were infiltrating Ista Weyr to determine the source of numerous severe grievances.

As Harper Hall had been requested by an anonymous bronze rider to help with an upcoming hatching, Mara accompanied Pokey (Mekelroy's mute drudge persona) and another partially trained Harper, Brendeen, to Ista Weyr to provide needed extra drudges with dragon experience. The threesome was treated poorly their first night in the Weyr, lodged in a small storeroom with a dragon sewage trench down the center.

Ista's hatching occurred the next day. Pokey, Brendeen, and Mara were assigned to chop meat in the kitchen during the disastrous hatching. Ista Weyr, under pressure from Lord Holder Toric of Southern Hold, had selected mostly candidates from his many children, nieces and nephews, very few of whom might have ever been legitimately searched. Several dragonets went _between_ on finding no suitable riders, or after being kept from and even taken from their chosen lifemates.

Four dragonets found their way, with their sire, Barnath's help, into the kitchen. The little queen, Saraneth, chose Brendeen, Keroon Lord Holder Kashman's daughter. One little green chose Pokey, but he refused impression, resulting in a loss of consciousness when the little green went _between_. Another green, Mynth, impressed Calloreen, a recently orphaned drudge with only eleven turns. And little brown Klamath chose Mara.

Weyrleader G'dened, at the insistence of Ista Weyr's queen dragon Caylith, asked F'lar and Lessa to train Saraneth and Brendeen. He also asked that they take Klamath and Mara and Mynth and Calloreen; Ista Weyr simply wasn't prepared to train these unusual pairs, having no female green riders or female brown riders.

This story begins as the weyrlings and their dragons are being transported on dragonback from Ista Weyr to their new home at Benden Weyr.

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I've seperated this from Mara's Story to avoid the daunting epic novel it wants to become.

As a youngster, I wouldn't even open a book that was 'too big'. Series, however, were a different matter entirely.

Very little has changed from the chapters originally posted in 'Mara's Story'.

Any complaints can be logged at www . whatever . com. ;)


	2. Welcome Home!

Flying on any dragon was exhilarating, but flying on bronze Reyuth with her new life-mate was an entirely new experience. Mara shared Klamath's excitement and anticipation – he knew that he would fly one day, just as high and just as fast as Reyuth was now. Mara didn't tell him that they weren't flying all that high or all that fast – she was enjoying experiencing Klamath's feelings and thoughts too much to put a damper on either.

Brown Klamath had chosen Mara at an early morning hatching at Ista Weyr just this day. It had been an emotional and tragic hatching resulting in a very long and tiring day for the ex dock worker from Keroon who had already seen thirty-one turns. She still hadn't fully recovered from injuries received just eleven days earlier at the gather in Keroon when she was attacked by a drunken group of men. But now, she was a dragonrider, or would be when barely day-old Klamath could carry her.

Shortly after Reyuth ascended into the warm air over Ista Weyr, Mara had found it necessary to lie down over Klamath with her arms holding his little wings. His instinctive desire to fly was too strong to overcome with sheer will alone. With his tail wrapped around her waist, she rested her head on his neck. She had no flying goggles or inner eye lids to protect her eyes from the wind, but even with her eyes closed, she could see everything that Klamath was seeing.

Seeing through Klamath's multifaceted eyes was at first quite unnerving. Whatever he looked at was repeated hundreds of times, like seeing a reflection in hundreds of water glasses all placed tightly together on a tray. At first, Mara had to concentrate on one facet at a time, and quickly realized that the far right facet in one eye covered a different section of landscape than the far left facets, or the upper or lower facets in the same eye. It was as if Klamath had hundreds of eyes compared to Mara's two.

Between was entirely different as well. She still couldn't help but notice the extreme cold or the silence, or the complete lack of physical sensation. She couldn't feel Klamath with her hands, but she could feel him with her mind. A calming phrase from Reyuth quickly squelched a tiny fear of being lost between, before Klamath had a chance to fly under his own power.

Three heartbeats after entering between, they exited into near total darkness. Pern's moons would not rise until late this night.

_Look up, Klamath._ Mara could see in her mind what the little brown was seeing for the first time.

_What are those lights?_

_They're stars. And someday soon we will learn to know which one is which so we'll always know where we are. _She could see and feel him lower his head to look below Reyuth.

_Are those stars, too?_

_Those are glows and torches! And that, my love, is Benden Weyr, our new home!_

Reyuth bugled in response to the watch dragon's welcome, and Klamath let out a slightly squeaky bugle of his own, mimicking the big bronze.

_Is it always so dark?_

_Only at night, Klamath. You'll see more in the morning._

_What's morning?_

Mara laughed to herself – this was going to be fun. _You'll see, my love. You hold on tight, now. Reyuth is about to land._

The big bronze dragon landed near the weyrling barracks with so much grace, his passengers barely felt a bump. Mnementh had landed nearby, and Mara was sure that Calloreen's squeals of excitement and F'lar's laughter were probably being heard throughout the weyr.

Several riders were waiting to help unload Calloreen and Mara. A bronze dragon and his rider helped to unload the small dragons, much to their dismay. Both wanted nothing more than to continue flying. Mnementh's firm order was required to get either to let go so they could eat and go back to sleep.

Benden's newest brown and green weyrlings were led to a ground level weyr near the weyrling barracks. L'ret and the healers had decided that the new weyrlings needed to be kept separate until their schedules more closely matched the older weyrlings. The elder weyrlings did not need to be roused at all hours of the night anymore. And the youngest dragons would need additional attention and training to catch up with their elders.

Brendeen and Saraneth, though, were placed with Benden's three day old queen. Tianna and Biradeth had no objections to sharing their spacious quarters or to slowing down their queen's training to allow their sisters to catch up.

Each of the three 'Istan dragons' were fed enough to allow them a full cycle of sleep. Healers and riders helped to spot bathe and oil their hides. The girls were all reminded that they were only getting this much help due to the disruption of their normal schedules. They would all be expected to care for their own dragons from this time forward. None complained, and all were grateful.

The girls were each fed from trays brought from the kitchen, and once their dragons were settled, they took the time to bathe themselves.

Mara slid into the warm bathing pool in the weyrling barracks with joyful abandon. The warm water seemed to melt away all of her aches and pains. After dunking her head and washing her hair, she simply sat back and soaked. And thought about the last time she had been in a bathing pool, with G'raden. Had it really been only two nights ago? She fell asleep remembering strong but gentle arms wrapped around her protectively. A small hand on her shoulder woke her enough to start yawning.

"You're gonna wrinkle." Calloreen smiled as the big woman tried to keep from yawning. "Unless you drown first."

"A cot would be safer, wouldn't it?" Mara was surprised when Cally turned away as she started climbing out of the bathing pool. Very few of the women at Benden turned away when bathing together, at least the few times she had used the bathing pool in the Living Caverns. Mara reached for a drying cloth. "You don't have to turn away, Cally. We're both girls."

The young girl turned shyly and tried to keep her eyes on Mara's. "You're so big." She immediately blushed, realizing how her comment could be misunderstood.

"I used to be even bigger! I've lost a lot of unneeded muscle at Benden Weyr."

"Will I ever get that big?"

"Oh, I hope not! Most women don't need this much muscle." She began dressing in the clean clothes she had been provided.

Cally couldn't help watching the big woman. Her mother had been rather shy and modest. "Do you think I'll ever get bigger here?" She put a hand on her girlish chest.

Mara stifled a laugh, but smiled. "Of course, you will! Your breasts will grow and so will your hips. I think you will be a very pretty woman."

"When?" Cally seemed a bit anxious.

"When your body is ready. We can't hurry good things, Cally. We can only wait and help them along as best we can."

"How can I help my body grow?"

"Good food and lots of exercise. You'll get both here." Mara watched Cally's face as she considered more questions. As she pulled on her shoes, she beat Cally to the next question. "Are you going to get dressed? Or would you rather walk back in that drying cloth?"

Cally turned around and looked at her own clothing lying on a bench. Mara could hear her worry about how to dress without being watched.

"Sometimes, I slip my tunic on before I take off the drying cloth." Mara tried to alleviate Cally's concerns as she took extra time picking up her own drying cloth and washing cloths and then set up the needed supplies for the next bather to use this carved out pool.

Cally slid her tunic on and was glad that it fell nearly to her knees. She let her drying cloth drop to the floor and slipped on her trousers before sitting on the bench to put her shoes on. Guilt and embarrassment drove her next question. "Why didn't you do that?" When Mara only smiled, she asked a more direct question. "Why did you let me look at you?"

"When I was your age, I didn't have any women to look at, or to talk to. When my body started changing," she made an exaggerated show of fear, "I got scared! No one should be scared of their own body. So, if you ever have any questions, you be sure to ask, either me, or the healers, or just about any woman at Benden Weyr. All right?"

Cally nodded as she picked up her own bathing cloths. She walked slowly to Mara, obviously thinking hard. "I never got a chance to ask Mama."

"Would you like to ask me?" Mara lowered to one knee to face the girl eye to eye.

"Why am I getting fat?"

"Fat? Let's see." Mara squeezed her tiny waist with her fingers. "I don't feel any fat."

Cally giggled and squirmed as Mara tickled her.

"Do you mean your legs?" Mara squeezed Cally's thin but well muscled thighs.

Cally giggled more and leaned forward to hold Mara's shoulders. "No!"

Mara leaned back, crossed her arms and pretended to study the laughing girl. "Where are you getting fat?" She had a good idea what Cally was talking about, but feigned ignorance.

"Here." Cally put her hands on her chest, but had trouble looking at Mara.

"Oohh!" The big woman smiled. "You're already growing into a woman!"

"But it's fat!" Cally looked truly disgusted.

"Breasts are just fat."

"They are?"

"And other things. I know a healer who can explain a whole lot better than I can. And she has drawings, from AIVAS!"

Cally seemed less worried now. She started asking questions about the healer and AIVAS as they took their bathing cloths to the large, overflowing basket of used cloths to be washed the next morning.

As they walked through the exit to the weyrling's necessary room, Mara put a hand on Cally's shoulder, leaned close to her face and whispered. "Shh. Let's not wake up the other weyrlings."

Cally giggled as Mara stood straight and turned to leave the weyrling barracks. They were met halfway by two women green riders who both appeared rather concerned.

Mara was stunned by the thoughts of the two women, but smiled and continued leading Calloreen.

At the exit, one of the green riders took Cally by the hand and led her away from Mara. "Are you all right?" she asked the girl.

Mara flinched at the tone of the woman. What was she implying?

"Did she touch you?" asked the woman. The look on her face as Cally told her about the tickling could have charred Thread, if it had been on Mara's face.

Mara was shocked at the thoughts going through these two women's minds. "What are you worried about?" she asked the taller woman.

The shorter and thinner woman holding Cally's hand smiled at the girl and spoke to her, not Mara. "It's all right. We'll make sure you get to sleep, and then we're going to stay with you tonight, just in case you need help with your dragons."

The other woman watched Mara as if she were a criminal as all four walked into Mara and Cally's temporary weyr.

Mara couldn't help but notice that the cots had been moved. They had originally been set up near the large dragon couch head to head; now they were separated by several arm lengths and sat toe to toe. Two chairs and a small table had been moved to the other side of the dragon's weyr, with a large pot of klah and two mugs. It was quite obvious to Mara that they would be observed very closely this night; for what reason, she couldn't imagine. It had something to do with Cally, but Mara could think of no reason they should worry about her hurting such a young girl.

Klamath and Mynth were curled up together in the middle of the large stone couch that had been filled with soft, freshly cut grain stalks. Klamath's neck snaked up and over Mynth's neck and their muzzles were barely a hand breadth apart.

Cally giggled at seeing them, and Mara donned a smile when the girl pointed them out to her.

The green riders both made quite a fuss about getting Cally into her cot. They guarded her from Mara's view as she removed her trousers, and tucked the summer fur around her before each kissed her good night. And then they turned and glared at Mara before walking to their chairs.

Mara stripped her own shoes and trousers, not at all comfortable with the way the women watched her. She lay down on her cot and waited for Cally's happy and excited thoughts to quiet.

The women whispered back and forth, but always returned to glaring at Mara.

When the girl's thoughts were quiet, Mara hoped she was asleep. She sat up on the side of her cot and noticed the defensive shifts of posture in both the green riders. She stood and walked toward the exit, motioning the women to come with her.

Outside the weyr, Mara walked a short way along the wall, away from the weyrling barracks. When she turned around, both green riders stopped and stood as if they were about to be attacked.

Mara couldn't believe their reactions. She spread her empty hands out to her sides and shook her head. "What is going on, here?"

The tallest woman answered. "We're just here to help with the dragons."

"Then why are you afraid of me?" Mara was getting upset at the very obvious lie.

The smaller woman answered this time. "You impressed a brown dragon."

"And . . .?"

"That could mean that you . . . like women." The tall one eyed the big woman suspiciously.

"I do like most women, but I'm not too sure about you two." Mara didn't understand what they were hinting at.

"Have you ever shared your furs with a woman?"

"No." Mara had never shared her furs with anyone except G'raden. Her eyes went wide as she realized what they were asking. "Do you mean have I ever tried to mate with a woman?"

Both green riders simply glared.

Mara was flabbergasted. Her jaw dropped as she eyed both women, trying to imagine how such a thing could even be done. She shook her head at the images that did come to mind. "No!" She returned her gaze to the women's disbelieving eyes. "You think I would hurt Cally?"

The green riders turned and separated when they heard a hissing growl from behind them.

Mara rushed between them. "Oh, Klamath. It's all right. We were just talking." She kneeled to meet and catch him. "No, they didn't hurt me. Just my feelings." She caressed his head and neck as she turned to face the women. "Yes, they upset me, but with silly talk. I won't let silly talk upset me anymore, all right?" She now glared at the two green riders, and then stood to lead Klamath back to the weyr. "Oh, you're so tired. Let's get you back to your couch. Did you wake up Mynth? Good for you. You're so sweet." She switched to mental talk as they entered the weyr.

"I don't believe her."

"Maybe she doesn't know yet. Some of the men don't know until after they impress greens."

"Would she admit it if she did know?"

"I don't know."

The green riders hurried back into the weyr and took their seats, watching suspiciously as Mara resettled brown Klamath on the stone couch, and then herself in her cot.

Mara shook her head as she rolled away from the glaring eyes. She tried not to think about the images that had come to her mind. She forced herself to think about the good things that would come with her mating to Klamath; playing in the lake, oiling his beautiful hide, flying over all of Pern, eventually charring Thread, and more playing. Klamath joined in her thoughts, each of them enjoying the differing perspectives of the other, and very shortly both fell into a deep and restful sleep.

Mara woke several candle marks later with a start. She felt afraid, but wasn't sure why. When she realized the fear wasn't her own, she sat up in her cot and turned first to Klamath, then to Mynth; both were sleeping soundly, though Mynth was stirring slightly. She turned to Cally. The girl seemed to be struggling in her lightweight fur.

Cally's 'protectors' were both sound asleep, leaned back against the far wall. Mara slipped from her cot and walked to Cally's where she sat carefully on the edge. She caught the girl's flailing wrists and held them gently over the girl's chest.

Cally whimpered when she woke. When she saw Mara's face, she began crying softly.

Mara let loose of Cally's wrists and ran her hands along the girl's thin arms to her shoulders. There, she squeezed gently and leaned down to whisper. "It's all right, Cally. It was just a dream."

The girl's arms snaked around the big woman's neck and held tight. "I miss Mama."

"I know you do." Mara put her hands to Cally's back and pulled as she sat up. "It's all right." With one hand on the girl's thigh, she lifted and turned until the girl sat on her lap, face buried in her neck. Now, Mara's tired back muscles wouldn't protest as much. "It's all right, Cally." She held the small back with one hand and the outside thigh with the other as she began rocking side to side. "It's all right." She ignored the glares from the green riders, now awake and standing a few paces away, and closed her eyes. "It's all right, Cally."

Mara rocked the girl until her arms loosened their fierce grip on her neck, and continued rocking until one arm fell from her shoulder. She chuckled silently to herself, remembering how rocking had always helped put her little brothers to sleep.

When she opened her eyes, Mara nearly laughed at the two green riders. They both glared, with arms crossed under their well endowed breasts. The arms beneath only served to lift those blobs so high that both green riders reminded Mara of some of the ale hold serving girls she had seen in Keroon; the ones who were offering far more than just ale for sale.

It took extra effort to keep anger and disgust from her thoughts as she readjusted her position on the cot. She lifted up as she pulled the sleeping fur toward the foot of the bed.

The taller green rider moved forward with her arms stretched out. "I'll take her."

Mara glared in a fair imitation of their earlier glares. "Back away. I've got her." She lifted Cally's hanging arm and curled it between their chests. With a hand under the girl's knees, she twisted until Cally's seat dropped to the cot. With the same hand now cradling the curly blond head, she gently laid the girl down onto her pillow. Both limp arms were placed across the girl's stomach and then Mara stood to pull the fur up under her chin.

Cally rolled toward Mara as soon as the fur touched her chin. Her eyes opened as Mara knelt beside the cot. "Can I sleep with you, Mara?"

Mara put a hand on Cally's upper arm and smiled. "You're a big girl, Cally. You'll be fine."

"I don't want to have any more bad dreams."

"Then don't! Think about Mynth instead. Think about all that you two have done and all that you will do." Mara put her other hand on the top of Cally's head and stroked the fine curls.

Cally smiled and closed her eyes.

Mara spoke quietly and slowly, with exaggerated modulation. "Think about flying on Mnementh's back today, and think about someday flying on Mynth's back, and all the places the two of you can go together." The big woman had to stop to yawn deeply. The girl's smile was beginning to fade. Mara continued talking, but even quieter and slower, almost in a monotone now. "You'll be able to fly over mountains, and oceans, and fields, and holds, and rivers, and lakes all over Pern."

Cally's smile was gone, so Mara stopped moving her hands. The girl didn't notice, so Mara took her hand from Cally's shoulder. When there was no reaction, Mara took her other hand from Cally's head. She watched the girl sleep for a while, until her own yawns threatened to separate her jaw from her head. So, she tried to stand up.

Kneeling on the stone floor had not been a very good idea. Mara only now realized she had no feeling in either of her feet. She leaned back onto those senseless feet and then rolled to sit. She had to use her hands to straighten her legs, which caused painful tingling in her toes, feet and even the calves of her legs. She clenched her teeth, her lips, and her eyes closed as she began gently massaging her calves.

"What's wrong?" The shorter of the two green riders spoke quietly near Mara's ear.

Mara didn't trust herself to speak so just shook her head at the woman.

"We'll help you up."

Mara looked at the fairly small woman with wide eyes and shook her head vigorously. "Just wait." She spoke through clenched teeth and continued working her calf muscles.

It seemed to take forever to get the feeling back into her feet. When she was able to move ankles and toes without stabbing pains, she rolled to the side of one hip to begin her awkward ascent. She wound up on hands and knees before being able to get a foot on the ground. She pushed with that leg, using her arms to keep her balance, and finally got the other foot to the ground. She stood slowly, hoping to not make too much noise. First her hips popped, then her back cracked several times, and finally her neck popped as she rotated her shoulders. She would have liked to stand far more gracefully in front of her two guards.

Mara looked defiantly at the two green riders as they backed away a few steps.

"Why didn't you wake us?" asked the short one.

"You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn't want to disturb you." She allowed a bit of disgust to seep into her words. She turned away and walked carefully to her cot. She didn't tell them that in the time it would have taken them to wake up and walk to Cally's cot, the girl may well have been screaming from her dream; she had been reliving the day her parents were killed.

Cally's strong memory of that day barely two seven-days ago left Mara with horrible scenes in her own mind each time she closed her eyes. She took mental notes of all the disturbing details and hoped to be able to speak with T'men about it the next day. Or would it be today? Mara had no idea what time it might be. She finally returned to imagining flying on Klamath, but the vision that kept returning was of a man and a woman kneeling in a garden being attacked by three very large and vicious canines while a man in the trees gave them hand signals.


	3. An Old Weyrling's First Training Day

Mara woke up in a very quiet, well-lit dragon's weyr she wasn't familiar with. After a quick visual scan of the cavern, she remembered how she had come to be here. Still sore muscles worked as she wondered why it was so quiet.

_Klamath?_

_You're up! Come to the lake! Reyuth's rider and Mynth's rider and __fire lizards__ are giving me a bath!_

_Have you eaten, my love?_

_Reyuth's rider fed me. But now you're hungry. You better eat before you come to the lake. But hurry!_

_I'll do that, my sweet love. And I'll hurry._

The big woman rolled and sat at the side of her cot. She felt rested; still a bit tired, but rested enough that she felt ready to face almost anything. T'men had fed Klamath; guilt washed over her as she donned her trousers. She hadn't worn socks last night, so walked barefoot to the rider's weyr deeper into the cavern. Relief hit her as she noticed that this weyr had a necessary room. She forgot about the socks as she walked instead to that welcome room.

This necessary room didn't have a bathing pool, but did have a water basin with running water and, of course, a latrine. As she took care of her most pressing need, she studied her surroundings. There was a small polished metal plate over the wash basin, and shelves carved into the wall held washing cloths, drying cloths, cleaning sand, and even a metal hair comb. She made use of each before resuming her search for socks.

This weyr was smaller than G'raden's. There was room for one of the cots they had used last night. A small chest sat against one wall near carved shelves that held her clothing from G'raden's weyr. She grinned at the sight of the medium green, neatly folded tunic and trousers, and wondered if G'raden had sent them.

She found what she was looking for and walked back to her cot while resuming her guilt study. T'men had fed Klamath. He was such a sweet man, a wonderful teacher and an even better friend. L'ret would be angry with her for not taking care of her own dragon, but what was done was done; she would deal with him and eventually prove herself worthy of the title 'dragonrider'.

How had this happened, she wondered, and then quickly decided that it did happen, so it would be dealt with as necessary. Mara of Keroon was now a dragonrider! A thirty-one turn old woman had impressed a beautiful, smart, healthy brown dragon. A woman had impressed a brown dragon.

Oh, my, she thought. Could those green riders be right? Not a chance! She had never dreamed about women, unless those dreams involved simple talking, or laughing; there was that one very happy dream of walking with a kind woman through the gather stalls, but they were only talking about the qualities of the goods they saw. No! Those women last night were wrong about her. She liked women as friends, but that was all.

As she laced her shoes, Mara noticed that the table on the far wall now held a tray with morning snacks; a meat roll, a couple of sweet rolls, a redfruit, and a pitcher (hopefully with spring water) and a mug. She wondered if T'men had arranged that as well.

_Are you coming?_

_I'm dressed now, my impatient little brown. I'll eat a little bit and then be right there, all right?_

_You better eat more than a little bit. Your stomach feels like mine did!_

_With your permission, then, I will eat everything in front of me, all right?_

_All right, but hurry! The water feels so good! And there are lots of other dragons out here!_

Mara laughed as she walked a little more quickly to the table. _I'm coming, my love!_

She poured a mug of water and downed it with relish. Oh, how she loved Benden Weyr's crystal clear cold spring water. It was more refreshing than anything she had ever experienced in her thirty-one turns. She poured another mug as she bit into the meat roll; fried, smoked porcine strips were surrounded with cheese and thin strips of spicy greens. Oh, was it good; far better than what Ista Weyr had provided. Maybe that's why T'men smiled constantly now.

Her stomach growled loudly for more, so she sat in one of the chairs. None of this meal was going to be wasted. As she ate, she noticed that Cally's cot had been removed. Shards in the boots of those two green riders! Ah well, Cally would probably be better off in with the other weyrlings; they were so much closer to her age.

Mara wondered if she and Klamath would be moved as well. The state of the rider's weyr in this cavern suggested that they would remain here. Ah well, at least they were close to the other weyrlings. Mara, the weyrling! The big woman laughed out loud at the thought. Oh, how surprising life could be! Wouldn't G'raden be surprised! Did he even know about this, yet?

The meat roll gone, she started on the sweet rolls. How was G'raden doing? Had he found that memory? Was he able to deal with it? Of course, he was! G'raden could deal with anything! He might stutter a bit while he was dealing with a problem, but deal with it he would do! How long before Klamath was ready to mate?

_Mara?_

_Coming, love!_

_Are you all right? You seem sad._

_Oh, Klamath. How could I be sad when I have you with me?_ Mara resolved then and there to not think about G'raden when Klamath was awake.

_Are you coming?_

Mara stuffed the last of the second sweet roll into her mouth and put the redfruit into a pocket of her trousers. _Coming, love! Right now!_

As she strode quickly outside, cheeks bulging with too much sweet roll, her first sight was that of Weyrlingmaster L'ret, leaning against the wall with arms crossed and a sour grimace on his face. She stopped as he pushed away from the wall, and tried to remember to chew her roll.

L'ret stood to his full height and smiled at the approaching weyrling. He bowed quite formally and spoke with forced kindness. "Good morning, My Lady. Or is it afternoon?"

Mara, chewing forgotten, stared at the man. He was obviously joking; she had never seen him like this.

The big, burly man clasped his hands in front of his waist. "Did you sleep well, My Lady?"

Mara nodded once. She could feel his anger even without listening to his thoughts.

"Good, My Lady. And did you dine well? Was your meal satisfactory?"

The big woman was reminded to chew her roll. She nodded again.

L'ret's expression began to change as his arms crossed his massive chest. "Wonderful, My Lady." These words were spoken with so much sarcasm, Mara flinched. Now L'ret bellowed. "Then get your lazy tail out to the lake and get to work!" When Mara smiled, he slapped her on the shoulder, starting her in the right direction. "You good for nothing, sorry excuse of a weyrling, get that fat old tail out there, now!"

Mara smiled as she walked quickly toward the lake; that was the weyrlingmaster she had come to know and appreciate. She managed to swallow part of her sweet roll before L'ret bellowed again.

"Run, you lazy old wench!"

Mara raised a hand in acknowledgment and began running, not an activity her massive legs were accustomed to. She noticed several young weyrlings watching her, so wiped the smile from her face. Couldn't have the youngsters thinking L'ret was a nice man, could she? One young weyrling pointed and laughed as she passed on her way to the lake. Mara smiled innocently and waved her fingers at young bronze rider B'rand.

_Klamath? Where are you?_

The little brown dragon waddled out of the lake as fast as his young legs would carry him, leaving two surprised people in the lake holding brushes. He spread his little wings to keep his balance and even flapped a few times in his rush.

Mara saw him coming and stopped, finally swallowing the last of her morning meal. She stood with hands on her hips, and smiled cautiously at the little brown. "Who are you?" she asked with exaggerated surprise.

Klamath stopped in his tracks no more than two paces from her and dropped his hind quarters to the ground. His blue faceted eyes began to turn yellow. _I'm Klamath!_

Mara shook her head and made a comic disbelieving face. "My Klamath wasn't nearly as big as you are!"

_I grew!_ His eyes shifted to a more greenish shade.

"That much? Turn around so I can see."

Klamath waddled in a tight circle, keeping his head turned to Mara.

Mara made a show of inspecting him from every possible angle. Her eyebrows would go up in surprise, and then down in concern, and then up again in surprise. She exaggerated each of her movements as if playing with a child. Finally, she stood with her arms crossed and frowned. "Well, you do have the same coloring as my beautiful Klamath. Spread your wings, little brown."

Klamath sat back on his haunches and spread his translucent wings to their fullest. His eyes whirled blue and green; he was enjoying Mara's little game as much as she was. As Mara crouched to get a better view of the underside, he dipped the trailing edges down to help. When Mara stood to see the upper side, he lifted the trailing edges.

After her thorough inspection, Mara crouched low with arms crossed. "Well, same beautiful brown coloring and same beautiful big wings." She spread her arms wide. "You are my Klamath, aren't you?"

The little brown pulled his wings in partially and bounced the remainder of the distance to his teasing rider. He butted her in the stomach, sent her sprawling to the ground, and landed right on top of her. _I told you I was Klamath!_

Mara laughed as she rolled her little brown back and forth across her belly. "You sure did, didn't you? I'll believe you next time, all right?"

_You better!_

Mara laughed at Klamath's commanding tone. A very loud, gruff throat clearing stopped their playing. "Oops," said Mara to Klamath.

"You consider that working, weyrling?" L'ret stood two paces from Mara's head, with arms crossed.

"No, sir!" _Let's get up, Klamath._ Mara rolled after Klamath jumped to her side.

The one day old brown dragonet stood squarely facing L'ret. _Should I bite him?_

_No, dear! He's right. We have work to do._ Standing was a little easier this time. Mara nodded her head to L'ret, hoping Duranth hadn't overheard Klamath's question and led her little brown toward T'men and Cally.

The corners of the weyrlingmaster's mouth twitched as they walked away. Duranth had been monitoring Klamath's reaction, and had dutifully reported to his rider.

_Oiling isn't work._

_Don't tell him that!_

_Why is he so mean?_

_He's not mean, Klamath. He's just determined to make us the best dragon-rider pair possible. I think he just pretends to be mean because he doesn't want us to make mistakes._

_Mistakes?_

_If we do something wrong, it could hurt you or me, or someone else._

_Duranth says he's not mean._

_Oooo! _Mara crouched down to get Klamath's full attention. _Don't tell anyone else, Klamath, all right?_

_That's what Duranth said._

_And we need to listen to Duranth just like we need to listen to his rider, all right?_

_All right._

_So, don't tell anyone that L'ret isn't mean, all right?_

_Duranth said that it's a secret._

_That's right, and keeping a person's or a dragon's personal secrets can be very important some times. _So, thought Mara to herself, the testing has begun.

_And this is one of Duranth's rider's personal secrets?_

_Mmm Hmm._

_All right. Will you oil me now? I itch._

"Yes, I'll oil you now." Mara stood again to meet T'men, Cally and Mynth.

Cally launched at Mara before she made it all the way upright, and wrapped her arms around Mara's neck. "Mara!"

Mara crouched again and returned the girl's innocent hug with full awareness that others were watching. She made sure to keep her hands on Cally's upper back only.

Cally noticed Mara's hesitation and backed away just far enough to keep her hands on the big woman's shoulders. "What's wrong?"

Mara put her hands on Cally's and half-grinned apologetically. "We're dragonriders now!" She pulled Cally's right hand from her shoulder and gripped her forearm with her own right hand. "This is how dragonriders say 'hello'."

"But, we're friends, too, aren't we?"

"We'll always be friends, but in public we need to be dragonriders first."

The girl nodded acceptance and gripped Mara's forearm.

"Good day, Weyrling Cally!"

The girl's giggling was quickly interrupted.

"Mara!" Weyrlingmaster L'ret stood a few paces behind the woman, arms again crossed in apparent anger.

"Uh oh." Mara gave Cally a comical frightened look before standing to face L'ret with a more serious expression.

"In my office. Now! You can oil your dragon in there."

"Yes, sir!" She waited for the big man to nod and turn before turning back to T'men with a disbelieving frown.

With his harper smile and dancing eyes, T'men said simply, "It'll get better." He handed Mara a bucket of oil with rags hanging from the side.

Her half-hearted smile said 'I hope so'. "Thank you for taking care of Klamath."

"It was Cally's idea."

"And the food?"

T'men shrugged his shoulders. "You better not keep the weyrlingmaster waiting."

"Ooo, right." She turned to Klamath. "Let's see if we can catch up to him, Klamath."

_Let's run!_ The little brown dragon took off at an awkward waddling gallop toward the weyrling barracks, his rider walking quickly behind.

_Can we talk later? _Mara thought to T'men. _About Cally?_

_How about now, like this? _

_She had a dream last night about when her parents were killed. There are some details that I hope others know about._

_What kind of details?_

_The three large canines were being controlled by a man in the trees._

T'men was silent for a couple of heartbeats. _I will pass that on._

_Thank you._

_Good luck!_ The extreme modulation of these two words left no doubt that he was teasing.

A pace before entering the weyrling barracks, Mara waved an arm dismissively to her side where T'men could see, if he were still watching.

"Mara, down here." L'ret called from the currently empty classroom. "Close the door." He sat at a small desk near the marking board at the front of the room. "Over here." He had laid out a tarp on the floor. In response to Mara's questioning look, he finally showed a hint of a grin. "I want to see how much oil you waste."

_You don't waste oil!_

_I don't know, Klamath. I've never oiled you without help before._

"Pull up a chair if you'd like, Mara. It's easier on older bones."

Mara wondered if this were some sort of test, but after last night's embarrassing display in front of those green riders, decided to take a chance. She pulled a chair from under one of the student's tables and placed it on the tarp. "Thank you, Weyrlingmaster."

L'ret moved his own chair to the other side of the tarp, sat and studied her as she began oiling Klamath's most itchy spots. He had been considering his options with this 'weyrling' since the decision to bring her to Benden Weyr. "This is a bit awkward, Mara." When she looked puzzled, he explained. "I was just getting comfortable with you being an assistant, and now you're a weyrling!"

"I don't expect any special favors, Weyrlingmaster."

"But you deserve some special treatment, Mara." He seemed a bit angry, or perhaps just confused. "You are not a child! You understand the purpose of authority and rank, and you already know how to take and follow orders. You deserve a different type of training, and yet . . ." He stopped and shook his head at the big, sweet, intelligent woman seated before him.

"I'm just a weyrling." Mara smiled, trying to alleviate some of his discomfort. "You can't treat me any different, just because I'm older than most weyrlings."

"Perhaps, if more older people were allowed to impress . . ." He shook his head again. "In twenty-five hundred years, no one over twenty-one or twenty-two has been permitted to stand for a clutch. Maybe that will change After, but I doubt it."

"It wouldn't be fair to the dragons." Mara forced a smile as she concentrated on one of Klamath's wing joints. "They should all be given the chance at a very long life."

"The Istan hatchlings were presented with lots of very good younger candidates, from all the weyrs, and still, this little brown chose you."

Klamath turned his head to Mara. _Of course I chose you! You are my rider! Who else would I choose?_ He turned to L'ret and hissed. _Why is he being so mean?_

Mara stroked her lifemate's neck and gently pulled his head back to face her. "Shhh, Klamath. It's all right. He's not being mean, love. He's just wondering why you chose me."

_Because you're my rider! _Klamath was still upset. _I felt you as soon as I hatched. Why would I choose anyone else?_

Mara looked questioningly to L'ret, wondering if she were breaking any rules by speaking to her little dragon. When the weyrlingmaster motioned for her to continue, she did. "Did you know that brown dragons have always chosen boys?"

_No. Why? _Klamath sounded incredulous.

"Well, people think that browns choose boys because browns are boy dragons. Boy dragons don't usually choose girls."

_Why?_

Mara grinned at L'ret, who was also grinning; he was obviously being filled in on Klamath's thoughts by Duranth. "Well, people think it has to do with personalities; the way we think, and act."

_You don't act like a boy._ Now Klamath sounded confused.

"Thank you for noticing, my love!" Mara laughed as she stroked his head and face. Then she questioned L'ret. "Maybe I think like a boy?"

Both humans shrugged their shoulders at each other.

_I don't care if you're a boy or a girl! You're my rider and I love you and nothing is going to change that and I wish people would stop asking silly questions. I'm yours and you're mine and that's the way it is!_

Mara took the brown's head between her hands and faced him squarely. "That is the way it is! And I love you more than anything or anyone, forever, Klamath! So let's both of us work at not letting silly things bother us anymore, all right?"

_All right!_ He let his rider pull his head closer to kiss above his eye ridges. _Umm, itching isn't silly, is it?_

Mara gasped. "No, dear, itching is very serious!" She let loose of his head and guided him back to a workable position on the tarp. "We better get back to work, huh?"

_Oiling isn't . . ._ The little brown casually snaked his head around to look at the weyrlingmaster. _We better get back to work._

"Good idea!" Mara started with his itchy tail.

Weyrlingmaster L'ret broke into uncontrollable laughter.

_Why's he laughing?_

_I don't know, but if we wait, he might tell us. _"Now, let's do a proper job starting with your head, all right?"

Klamath dutifully turned back to face Mara, lifting his head to within her reach and even closing his eyelids without prompting. Mara carefully wiped a lightly oiled rag over each of his eyes and then ran a dry rag gently over each. She asked him to open just one eyelid to be sure she hadn't used too much oil. When both were satisfied that his eyes had been properly cared for, she moved on just as L'ret had taught her a little over a seven-day earlier.

L'ret had regained his composure when she started on the little brown's eyes, not wishing to distract either of them at such an important area. "He's a fast learner, Mara."

"Aren't most little dragons?"

"Not like this." His smile was truly appreciative. "He's already picking up concepts that most don't for months, if ever."

Mara blushed slightly, guessing that he was referring to their little secrets.

"It could be due to your extra turns of experience, but I prefer to think that you two are simply a perfect match." He pointed two fingers at his temple.

"You don't agree with those green riders who stayed with us last night?"

"Agree with what?" When Mara hesitated, L'ret grew concerned. "Was there a problem last night?"

"More a misunderstanding. They were concerned that I might . . . like girls."

L'ret had heard the rumors and summarily dismissed them. He played innocent. "Don't you?"

"As friends, yes, mostly. But they seemed concerned that I might actually hurt Cally."

"That's absurd! I've seen you with these youngsters, boys and girls. I'll talk to them."

"I don't want to cause any trouble, Weyrlingmaster."

"Oh, please! Use my name when we're alone. And you didn't cause any trouble. Dragonriders should know better than to be so rude to anyone! Who was assigned to you last night?"

"They never told me their names."

_They belong to Krinth and Syleth._

After a moment, during which Duranth relayed Klamath's assertion, L'ret smiled at the little brown. "How did you know that, Klamath?"

_When they upset Mara, I asked the other dragons who they belonged to._

L'ret slapped a hand over his heart as he smiled at Mara; Klamath had spoken directly to him.

Mara smiled with pride; Klamath was indeed a fast learner.

_What's wrong?_ Klamath bespoke L'ret again.

"Nothing, Klamath. You honor me by speaking to me!"

_Mara speaks to you. Why shouldn't I?_

"Good point, Klamath!" He reached a hand out to pat the little brown's offered muzzle. To Mara, he said, "I will speak with Krinth and Syleth's riders about their lack of manners."

Oiling young Klamath took a little over a candle mark's time. During that time, L'ret and Mara talked about how her training would be a little different than the other weyrlings.

First of all, as the oldest weyrling in the class, she would be the one most watched by weyrlings and others. L'ret usually gave 'special attention' to the oldest weyrlings, usually in the form of higher expectations. Both agreed that Mara would be treated no differently, especially since people from all over Pern would likely be visiting Benden Weyr to witness this unique pairing.

Second, Mara would still be asked to serve as a weyrlingmaster's assistant, as her duties to Klamath would allow. Her special skills were not something L'ret was willing to give up without a fight, though he was sure that the dragon healers would feel the same way during a Fall.

Mara and Klamath would stay in the ground level weyr near the barracks. This, L'ret claimed, would allow her a little more privacy which, he teasingly scolded, was not to be abused; to himself, he thought that Mara might need a little more rest than the youngsters in the barracks. It should also help to alleviate those ridiculous allegations being spread by ignorant fools. They would both be welcome at any time into the weyrling barracks, of course; Klamath would need the necessary room, and Mara would need the bathing pool.

L'ret teased her about her effort at running, but reminded her that she would need to participate in morning exercises. He was pleased that Mara was actually excited about getting into 'proper dragonrider condition'. She agreed to work on her running, and at his insistence, to not push herself too hard. L'ret worried about starting such intense exercise at her age, but Mara reminded him that she had been exercising intensely in a different manner from an early age.

When the oiling was finished, and Klamath began circling in preparation of taking a nap, L'ret kicked them both out of the classroom. As they walked out of the weyrling barracks, both wearing stern expressions, L'ret pointed out a good place for Klamath's nap.

"And then I want you to do a full lap of the weyr." He motioned around the bowl. "All the way around before you report back to me, understood?"

"Yes, sir!" Mara fought a smile as she nodded and led her very tired little brown toward the sunny spot most of the young dragons were using to soak up the summer sunshine.

L'ret watched the big woman lead the little dragonet, and was amazed at how the bright sun seemed to change the color of Klamath's freshly oiled hide. _Duranth? What color is Klamath?_

_He's brown most of the time._

_And now?_ L'ret could feel his brown shifting irritably on his perch high above the weyr.

_He looks rather bronze, don't you think?_

_I thought my eyes might be playing games with me._

_Others up here agree that he looks bronze. Anything else?_

_No, my love. Go back to sleep, and thank you._

_Glad to be of assistance, my dear one._

He watched the little brown who was currently bronze, even as Mara started her run. But Mara's awkward gate soon drew his full attention. He shook his head; those big legs had to make running difficult, but she would adapt. He then looked around the weyr bowl. Weyrlings were spread all along the outer wall, all (most, he noticed; he would have a talk with that young man) at various stages in their late morning run. Other riders were interspersed among the weyrlings; some encouraging the young hold-breds who had never been required to run at their previous homes; some merely partaking in their own morning rituals.

L'ret felt a little stiff after his pre-dawn two laps, so decided that one more lap might be what his old bones needed this day. As Mara approached, having circled the lake and gone past the beast pens, he couldn't help but notice the sweat running off her. "First time running?"

Mara's breath was coming so fast she couldn't even manage more than a nod and a smile.

"Walk for a little bit." L'ret fell in beside her and studied her face and breathing. "I told you not to push yourself too hard. You run a little and then you walk a little until you get used to this, all right?"

"Yes . . ." she took a quick breath "sir." If she weren't already red from her exertions, she would have blushed.

L'ret laughed. "You keep walking until you can say 'A dragonrider's duty is to never let Thread touch land' all in one breath. Understood?"

"Yessir." When the weyrlingmaster raised his eyebrows, waiting, she gave it a try. "A dragonr . . . rider's duty . . . is to ne . . . never let Thread . . . touch land."

"Good. Don't rush this, Mara. You don't want your heart to give out on Klamath's first day."

"No, sir!" Mara felt properly chastised. How could she have forgotten so quickly that her health could affect her new little love? She resolved firmly that no amount of teasing would cause her to overextend her current limits for the sake of her own pride. But limits could be stretched, and stretch them she would do, just far more carefully.

L'ret, with his turns of experience with weyrlings, saw the shift in this weyrlings realization. "Good. If you can't say 'dragonrider' in one breath, it's time to walk."

"Understood . . . Thank you . . . Weyrlingmaster." Mara nodded and smiled with true appreciation.

"Good. In time," he emphasized the last two words, and then cocked his head, "maybe we can keep each other company on these long runs."

"Yes, sir!" L'ret would be enjoyable company. His knowledge of dragons was immense, and his face brightened up so much when he talked about the children he had sired, two of whom were being fostered right here at Benden Weyr. Having his company on long runs would be most enjoyable.

L'ret slapped the back of her shoulder and then began his run. His stiffness was already diminishing; one more lap would do him good.

Mara watched her weyrlingmaster and wondered how many turns he had seen. The lines on his face, not to mention the streaks of silver in his hair, suggested he was far older than G'raden. Maybe even close to Weyrleader F'lar's age; Lessa had confided that he was just beginning his seventh decade. Mara hoped that G'raden would age as wonderfully as F'lar had, and she hoped that she would look as young as Lessa in another twenty-five turns.

'Not if I don't get used to running' she thought. "A dragonrider's duty is to never let . . ." She took several very deep breaths, trying to slow her breathing, and tried again. "A dragonrider's duty is to never . . ." 'Shards. Ah well, good things take time.'

She watched, then, as bronze Reyuth landed with his normal grace a short distance ahead of L'ret. Then she watched, with a twinge of guilt, as T'men dismounted and ran to talk to L'ret. She wondered what could be going on when they almost seemed to be arguing; L'ret's arms flew up more than once, before finally settling across his expanded chest. As T'men talked though, L'ret's posture changed noticeably. He relaxed and even seemed just slightly defeated. Finally, they both turned toward Mara.

"A dragonrider's duty is to never let Thread touch . . ." Shards. Close enough, this time. Mara began running again, even though her leg muscles protested loudly.

T'men and L'ret gripped each other's forearms, and then T'men raised his hand to Mara before running back to mount Reyuth and fly away again. L'ret nodded at Mara and turned to resume his run. "Dragonriders." Mara kept running.

As she ran past the division between the southern and northern craters, she noticed L'ret running up the steps to the weyrwoman's rooms. Mara laughed; she had trouble walking up those steps – she had never seen that many steps in Keroon. L'ret didn't spend much time at the top of the steps. He ran down just as easily as he had run up. The way Mara felt right now, she would have rolled all the way down those steps, if she could even crawl up to the top. L'ret continued his run.

Mara continued her run, but her legs felt like massive tree trunks. They were even beginning to respond to her commands just as well as tree trunks might. She had to stop running even though she could still say 'dragonriders' at least twice with one breath. She'd made it over half-way to the hatching grounds; not too bad for her first run. She would have to walk the rest of the way around the bowl unless the feeling returned to her legs; then she might run a little more.

As she continued walking on very numb legs, Mara tried to imagine running like some of the dragonriders were doing, full speed, hair flowing back from their faces. She tried to imagine the feeling of power in her own legs. Why would her large muscles not propel her the way other's smaller muscles did? She would have to ask Loralin, or maybe even Tarminas; would he appreciate a question, or would he treat her like an ignorant drudge who had no need for any knowledge. Maybe T'men would know the answer to this question; he knew so many things.

As she approached the weyrwoman's steps, she tried to imagine running up them as L'ret had done. What would it be like to know, without a doubt, that she could do that so easily?

A whoosh of air and a whirlwind of sand drew her attention; a dragon was landing nearby. When the sand storm settled, she turned to see Reyuth. T'men was walking quickly toward her. His smile was slight and strained.

"Wingleader T'men, what's wrong?"

"Walk with me?" He motioned her to continue toward the hatching grounds.

They walked almost to the sands before T'men spoke again. "Is Klamath still sleeping?"

"Yes."

"Soundly?" He turned his head to watch her.

Mara consciously reached out to feel Klamath. "Yes."

"Good. You understand that strong emotion can wake him, right?"

"Yes, I do. Is G'raden all right?" Mara stopped walking and faced T'men. She had to put a hand on his arm to get him to do likewise.

"He's having trouble dealing with this memory that's returned. He's fighting G'regg and B'nor. They're at a loss as to how to help him now. They . . . we, including Normond, are hoping that you can get through to him."

"It's against the rules."

"L'ret understands the situation, and believes that you are knowledgeable enough to protect Klamath. But, if you disagree . . ."

"I'd like to try. But if Klamath wakes up . . ."

"Reyuth and I will be right there and ready to bring you back down."

She nodded and turned toward Reyuth.

T'men, seeing her wobble a bit, took her by the arm. "How are your legs?"

"What legs?" Sarcasm oozed from her scrunched face. After T'men stopped laughing, she returned to the subject at hand. "Tell me what to expect, so I won't be shocked."

T'men fed her bits of information as they walked back to Reyuth. They walked around the big bronze dragon once as Mara carefully processed the shocking and frightening picture he had painted. And then, with Reyuth's help, they mounted, launched and flew to G'raden and Normond's weyr.


	4. G'raden Remembers

Reyuth landed on Normond's weyr ledge with his normal grace. T'men unfastened his riding straps and slid down with equal grace. Mara, however, had to use her arms to lift one leg over Reyuth's back and then slid to the ground and nearly to her knees. T'men caught her before she got that far, but had to pin her against Reyuth's side to do so.

"Shards" said Mara into his laughing belly. She concentrated all her efforts into making her numb legs perform their basic duty.

As her legs began to function again, T'men backed away a bit and lifted under her armpits. "You all right?"

"Mmph. Embarrassed, but all right." She couldn't look at his face just yet.

T'men laughed. "What's that in your pocket, weyrling?"

Now Mara looked at him, still red-faced. "Klamath was in a hurry. That's what's left of my morning meal." Shards on his pillow for taking so much pleasure at a time like this.

"Ahh." He grinned at her blush.

One eyebrow raised, Mara hoped to get even for his enjoyment of her embarrassment. "Should I ask what's in your pocket?"

T'men actually blushed, and smiled wider than Mara had yet seen; this was no harper smile. "No, you should not!" 'She's catching on' he thought as he backed further away and offered her an arm to hold. "Let's go, weyrling."

"Yes, sir!" Mara took his arm gratefully. As Reyuth moved his head from watching his riders, Mara gasped involuntarily. "Oh, Normond!" No words could have prepared her for this sight.

The magnificent, massive bronze Normond appeared deflated, as if he had shrunk. His normally iridescent hide was dull, flaky, heavily tinged with grey, and sagged as if only attached in a few spots to his body. When he turned his head to Mara's voice, his eyes swirled mostly orange. They, too, seemed shrunken – could he be dehydrated?

"What happened, Normond?" Mara left T'men to pat the big bronze's muzzle. She stroked a hand up and down between his worried and frightened eyes as she caressed his jaw.

_He's remembering something bad. Really bad. Can you help him? Please?_

"I'll do my very best, Normond. But you need to drink some water, dear." Several full buckets of water sat well within his reach, but he wobbled his head under her hands. "He won't get better if you don't stay well, Normond. Please drink some water while I go talk to him, all right?"

Normond was silent, but closed his eyelids and seemed to sigh.

Mara turned and took T'men's waiting arm. She held tight with both hands, took a deep breath, and nodded at him.

They could already hear G'raden yelling, crying, and almost screaming. His words, though, were those of a child, not a full grown man.

T'men stopped at the dragon covered curtain and waited for Mara's nod. He moved the curtain aside and they both just stood there for quite a few heartbeats.

G'regg and B'nor were each holding one of G'raden's arms, pinning him to the bed. G'raden fought, but not with the force of a man, with the squirming and twisting of a child.

"Let me go!" he pleaded. "Stop it!" he yelled. "No!" And then he cried like a very frightened little boy.

Mara moved to the side of the bed and put her hands on G'regg's shoulders, as much to steady herself as to let him know she was there. "What happened?"

G'raden stopped struggling as soon as Mara spoke. She could hear his confusion; was that his dam he heard?-but it couldn't be.

Both men eased their hold on G'raden as he stopped fighting them.

G'regg turned his head to her, eyes filled with tears, but he couldn't speak.

B'nor answered. "When he helped that weyrling, B'rand, it brought back some memories . . ."

". . . of his childhood." Even at a time like this, these two seemed to speak as one.

"What kind of memories?" asked Mara.

Both of G'raden's friends shook their heads. Both had tears running down their faces. B'nor started their answer. "After his mother died. . ."

"Was killed!"

"Geraldraden's childhood ended."

G'raden curled into a tight ball on the bed, his back to Mara and G'regg, and sobbed quietly.

B'nor put a hand on his arm, but when G'raden tensed up, he moved to sit at the foot of the bed.

"His sire was the ugliest, dirtiest tunnel snake's arse" snarled G'regg.

"He got used . . ." B'nor closed his eyes and shook his head as he nearly whispered, "and abused."

"No one deserves what they did to little Gerry!"

"May I sit down, G'regg?"

G'regg's embarrassment was obvious. "Oh, of course, Mara." He stood and helped her when she wobbled. "What'd you do?"

Mara winced. "Ran for the first time." She sat at the head of the bed with her back to the wall.

G'regg helped her stretch one leg out on the bed. "I'm sorry, Mara. Where are my manners?" He looked uncharacteristically ashamed.

Mara caught one of his hands before he moved away and held it tight in both of hers. "It's all right, G'regg, really." She didn't let go until he looked at her and nodded.

G'regg backed away and sat at the foot of the bed opposite B'nor, who put a hand on his back.

Mara laid a gentle hand on G'raden's shoulder. He didn't flinch at her touch. "G'raden?"

"G'raden is my dragonrider name." He spoke softly into a tightly clenched fist. "My real name is Gerry."

Mara was shocked. She looked around the room. G'regg and B'nor leaned toward each other. T'men shook his head but mouthed 'keep him talking'. Lessa stood next to T'men, holding his arm as if for balance. When had she come in?

"How old are you, Gerry?" Mara stroked his short hair with her other hand.

"Ten."

"You're almost a man!"

"No, I'm not" he declared sheepishly.

"You're big and strong and brave like a man."

"No, I'm not."

"I think you are."

G'raden rolled over slowly and looked into Mara's eyes. He wore a ten-turn old boy's pout. "I'm not."

"You've been through a lot for a boy of ten. You're definitely strong, and brave, too."

Tears rolled from his eyes. "I'm not brave."

"You're not?"

"I'm scared. All the time." He wrapped one big arm over his belly and the other across his chest, and rocked side to side.

Mara ran a hand over the arm on his chest. "Oh. That's all right, Gerry. Lots of people get scared."

G'raden rolled closer and touched one finger to her thigh. "Lots of people?"

"Uh huh. Can you tell me why you're scared?"

"No." He ran his finger down her thigh, poking gently as if testing the reality of its existence.

"Why?" She ran a hand over his head and to his back.

"It hurts to think about it." He laid his big hand clumsily on her thigh and squeezed slightly.

"Talking can make the hurt go away."

"I don't want to." He pulled his now fisted hand back to his lips.

"All right, Gerry. That's all right."

"Your leg hurts."

"Uh huh."

"I can fix it."

"Oh, you don't have to do that, Gerry. It'll be all right."

"I like to help nice people." He turned almost pleading eyes up to Mara's.

"I don't want you to wear yourself out."

"It's not that bad."

Mara looked to T'men for advice. It felt like cheating to let G'raden fix her sore muscles.

T'men nodded at her. _It'll help to build his trust in you._

Mara nodded back and smiled at G'raden. "That would be so nice, Gerry, if you really don't mind."

"I like to help." G'raden wrapped one hand under her right thigh and reached out to lay his other on her left thigh.

Heat radiated from each of his hands, and then a tingling sensation radiated to the muscles of her backside, thighs, calves and even her feet. When it stopped, there was no more pain, no more near cramping, not even any stiffness. "Oh, Gerry! Thank you very much!" She rubbed his back as she tested her muscles.

"Can I take a nap, now?"

Mara mock scolded. "Did you wear yourself out?"

With a sheepish grin, he said "I was already tired."

"All right. You take a nap." She patted her thigh. "Put your head here."

With the eagerness of a child who still loves to be held, G'raden scooted closer and carefully laid his head on Mara's upper thigh.

Mara gently stoked the side of his head until he relaxed a bit more. "Is it all right if we keep talking?"

G'raden pouted as he looked up at her. "You gonna talk about what happened?"

"We'd like to, Gerry. I know you don't want to talk about it, but maybe if we do it will help, too."

"All right." He scooted in closer and hugged Mara's leg.

Mara ran one hand over his head and the other down his arm and back up to his hand.

"You have big hands."

Mara chuckled. "They match the rest of me."

G'raden giggled at that, and then ran his fingers over hers. He turned her hand over and ran a finger around the palm of her hand, and then up and down each finger.

_Mara, what are you feeling?_ Lessa sounded cautiously curious.

Mara smiled ruefully at Lessa and cocked her head to one side. _Nothing that would bother Klamath. I just want to know more about this little boy._

G'raden stopped his finger trekking and wrapped his big hand awkwardly around Mara's. "You're not talking."

"You're not napping." Mara sounded stern.

G'raden grinned childishly as he turned his head to look up. His eyes grew big as the grin faded. "You can talk if you want."

"About what happened?"

G'raden nodded. "I want it to stop hurting."

"I knew you were brave."

He turned back and snuggled his head into her big leg. "I don't feel brave."

"Where do you think we should start?"

He wrapped an arm around her leg and held on as if that would protect him. "When Mama died."

"Can you tell me about that?"

"I thought you were gonna talk about it."

G'regg turned to challenge T'men. "I told you he was smart!"

"Is that Garegg?"

"Who'd ya think it was, boy? Weyrleader F'lar?"

G'raden giggled, but didn't lift his head from his warm pillow. "Where's Barranor?"

"Right here, Gerry, with my two best friends."

"Mama said you two were trouble."

G'regg chuckled. "Of course!" He grinned at Mara. "When Gerry's mama got mad, she would grab hold of me and hug me till I said I's sorry. I made her mad a lot!"

"Ha!" Mara dropped her jaw in obviously mock surprise.

"She was a big woman. Tall, like you, Mara, but really big." B'nor held his curved arms out in front of him, winked and then lowered those arms far from his sides.

"A boy could get lost for days in one of her hugs. And enjoy it!" Both bronze riders, and even G'raden, chuckled at that memory.

T'men grinned and nodded while Lessa smirked and shook her head.

"She was the sweetest . . ." G'regg choked up.

". . . and kindest woman in our whole little hold."

"She took care of all us youngsters during the day."

"Da killed her." G'raden's quiet words erased all signs of amusement.

Mara blinked hard before asking gently "Did you see him kill her, Gerry?"

"No." He sighed deeply before going on. "Mama went out to tend the milch beast, cuz I was feeling sick. Da went out a little later, with his walking stick. When he came back, he was cleaning the stick with a bloody rag. He said the milch beast cut her leg. Then he went to work for Garegg's sire."

B'nor continued the tale. "The three of us found her sprawled out in the beast's stall."

"If we didn't know her big body, we never would have known it was her."

"He smashed her head with that stick." G'raden slapped Mara's other leg as he said 'smashed'.

T'men watched the other two 'brothers' as they faced each other in surprise. G'raden had used the very same inflections when he had teasingly threatened to smash their heads together.

B'nor stated what they were both thinking. "I always wondered where that phrase came from."

"I told you it was him." G'regg now glared at B'nor.

B'nor asked G'raden "Why didn't you tell us, Gerry?"

"I was scared." He now gingerly rubbed where he had just slapped.

"We could have helped you" added G'regg.

"He said I was next if I told anyone."

"Ahh, Gerry." G'regg reached out and held one of G'raden's tightly tucked in legs.

"Would you have taken me to Igen Weyr?"

G'regg chuckled, but B'nor answered. "We would have taken you somewhere, Gerry. Somewhere safe."

"Igen Weyr?" Lessa had been quiet until now, but curiosity overcame her.

"We had it all figured out." G'regg sounded proud as he turned partway around and drew an imaginary map in the air. "All we had to do was walk west to the bay, then north until the bay turned into a river, and a little ways further was Igen Weyr."

B'nor blushed slightly, but smiled brightly as he explained to his weyrwoman. "We were eight, nine, and ten turns at the time." He motioned first to G'raden, then to G'regg, and then to himself.

"That's over 200 miles!" Lessa scolded.

"We were gonna pack a lunch!" G'regg sounded as if he was nine again.

Lessa couldn't help but laugh, but covered her mouth trying to keep it from happening.

"Why Igen Weyr?" T'men's curiosity lit up his face.

"Closest dragon's weyr we could walk to." G'regg stated this as if anyone should have known, and then shrugged his shoulders. "We didn't know anyone with a boat."

His 'brother' smiled wistfully. "Looking back, I guess we all knew we'd be dragonriders one day."

"We played 'dragonriders' even before Gerry could walk!" G'regg addressed Mara now.

"Gerry's dam would even tip an empty barrel on its side until we could walk out to the nearest fallen log."

"When we were older, we found a clearing with stumps all around it and one big log lying on the ground." G'regg pointed at several imaginary stumps and outlined the log in the air around him.

"We'd go out there almost every day."

"Walked around those stumps, talking to them, guessing what color dragon would hatch from them."

"You remember that, Gerry?" B'nor looked hopeful.

"Mmm, hmm."

Lessa bit her lips. In thirty turns, she had never seen these bronze riders carry on like this, except from a distance. She had witnessed them having a good time at meals, but never really paid them any attention. She had always tried to overlook the 'problem' of G'raden, due to F'nor's repeated assertion that he was a 'sharding fine dragon rider'.

"And then they'd all hatch!" B'nor spoke to G'regg as they both relived this wonderful childhood experience.

"And the three of us would impress three bronze dragons," G'regg snapped his fingers three times "just like that!"

"My dragon was always the biggest" G'raden added.

"Yes, he was!" said B'nor.

"And then we'd fly all over Pern." G'regg motioned all around himself.

"And we'd fight thread! Every single day!" B'nor grinned wide eyed at his equally wide eyed 'brother'.

"G'regg was always the best weyrleader" added G'raden.

B'nor asked G'regg "You remember the time you got scored?"

G'raden hugged Mara's leg a little tighter and shuddered.

"Ohh, it bothered little Gerry so much, we all worked extra hard to make sure we never got scored again." G'regg had slowly pulled G'raden's foot closer and now patted his calf in reassurance.

"Those were good times." B'nor's smile faded as he recalled later experiences.

"When Mama died, Da got meaner." G'raden seemed ready to move on.

G'regg shook his head. "Oh, he got mean!"

"Started hurting our little Gerry."

"Hurt him more and more each time."

The brothers looked at each other, thinking about something they didn't want to say. They both shook their heads and both closed their eyes.

"Other men, too" added G'raden.

G'regg's head fell to his chest as tears began to fall.

B'nor put a hand on his friend's neck and shook him gently. "You're nothing like you sire, G'regg. Nothing like him!"

Still holding G'regg, he turned to Mara. "Next day, after Gerry's sire left, we'd sneak in and clean up Gerry."

"We'd take him out to our 'hatching grounds'." G'regg was recovering.

"Impressing our dragons was the only way to bring Gerry back to us."

"Until that son of the Red Star up and disappeared."

"Ahh," B'nor's eyes began to fill. "We thought we'd lost Gerry for good. Two days later, we found him locked in a tack room."

"That sorry Red Star spawn had left him for dead!"

"We took him to an old hunting cabin. Brought him food and water."

"And clean clothes." G'regg's low conspiratorial tone was followed by the brothers making faces at each other.

B'nor continued, shaking his head. "We did the best we could for our little Gerry."

"We were only eleven and twelve." G'regg sounded apologetic.

"We'd take turns skipping the harper's lessons to make sure he was never alone."

"Don't think he missed us, though." Both brothers laughed.

"Two, three months later, we were all at the cabin when a blue dragon and a brown dragon landed in the little clearing."

"Thought we'd be taken to the mines for sure!"

"But they were on search!"

"That brown rider was mighty pleased to ask both B'nor and me to go to Benden Weyr with them."

"He wasn't so pleased when we refused to go without Gerry."

"After a long talk, though, they took all three of us!"

"Oh, how that brown rider got scolded by the weyrleaders."

G'regg turned on the bed to look at Lessa. "Do you remember that day, Weyrwoman?"

Lessa smiled cautiously. "F'nor reminds me on occasion."

The brothers declared in unison, "Good man, Wingleader F'nor!"

"Why'd you take him to a hunter's cabin?" asked T'men. "Why not to a healer?"

The brothers shared sad looks until G'regg nodded at B'nor and then hung his head. B'nor answered. "The whole hold knew what was happening to Gerry. No one wanted to stir up trouble. The cot holder . . ."

"My sire." G'regg's two simple words dripped with disgust, and shame.

"He was one of the men hurting Gerry."

Mara, T'men and Lessa watched in silence as B'nor pulled G'regg's bowed head to his shoulder and rocked him. "You're nothing like him, G'regg!"

G'regg grunted once, pushed away from his friend, and nodded definitively before declaring, "I'm a dragonrider!"

His friend slapped him firmly on the back. "That's my man!"

From Mara's lap, G'raden added, "That's my man."

All three brothers chuckled as the two older men patted G'raden's now more relaxed legs.

When the brotherly bonding ritual seemed near over, T'men asked a bothersome question. "Why would Gerry's sire try to kill him?"

G'regg was back to himself. "That tunnel snake was selling Gerry's healing abilities."

"Gerry had said he didn't like it; it wore him out. And that fool would turn away needy folks who didn't have enough marks."

"Maybe Gerry finally stood up to him." The brothers cocked their heads at each other, considering this option.

G'raden rolled just enough to turn his head toward his two best friends. "Do you remember Syreann? Pretty little lady. Her baby was real sick, but Da sent her away because she didn't have any marks." He shook his head. "She even offered herself."

Mara sought out T'men, who was smiling and nodding in relief. G'raden's words were no longer those of a ten turn old boy.

"Next day, the baby died and I got really mad. Told him I wouldn't do it anymore, unless I could choose who to help. And that we wouldn't take any marks, unless they were offered and wouldn't cause any hardship. That's when he started hitting me, calling me a good for nothing sniveling tunnel snake. And then he started swinging that big walking stick, the same one he used on Mama. That's the last thing I remember." He rolled back to his warm pillow. "Till Normond called me."

G'regg threw his hands into the air. "Oh, what a day that was!"

B'nor lit up as he explained to Mara. "Normond was not only the first bronze of the day, but the very first egg!"

"Mixed blessings, some said; the first bronze choosing G'raden." G'regg turned to Lessa, but smiled without accusation.

Lessa nodded. She had been younger and much harsher with her words thirty turns ago. Since then, and even more so this day, she had, and would always trust a dragonet's choice, no matter how confusing to her and other humans. She smiled at Mara and hoped she would live long enough to see what surprises she and Klamath might offer Pern.

"But we knew it was right!" declared B'nor.

"And when Normonth changed his name on the spot to Normond?"

"We knew it was a perfect match."

"Gerry became a whole new person."

The 'brothers' declared in unison, "Bronze Rider G'raden!"

G'raden chuckled from his pillow.

B'nor elaborated. "He was happy like never before, and began talking again."

"And he grew almost as fast as Normond!"

"But he had developed a nearly uncontrollable temper."

G'regg defended his friend. "Never did hit a woman, though."

"G'regg and I, or Normond, can always talk him out of doing too much damage, though."

G'raden rolled to his back, and asked Mara, "Is Normond all right?"

"Ask him yourself, G'raden. He's almost in bed with us!" Mara pointed past the foot of the bed.

Normond had squeezed his head into the room when Gerry became G'raden. Lessa stood against the far wall, rubbing an eye ridge as T'men stood near the entrance to the necessary room at Normond's nose. The dragon weaving draped over the top of his head and fell partway over one massive swirling green and yellow eye.

G'raden sat up with help from the extended hands of his friends and Mara's hand on his back. "Normond! You better not be stuck!"

Everyone else laughed. Even Normond huffed repeatedly, though in an uneven rhythm; if he were human, he might be laughing and crying simultaneously. His eyes quickly lost their yellow streaks and became a much happier blue and green.

Mara, G'regg and B'nor helped G'raden to stand and walk to his beloved bronze. Lessa moved closer to T'men to allow the rider a tiny bit of privacy.

"Oh, Normond, my love." G'raden sobbed as he leaned over between two now closed eyes and extended his big arms partway around the big bronze muzzle. "Yes, my love, I'm back."

Lessa stood, arms hugging herself, near T'men with a relieved smile on her face. "Welcome back, Bronze Rider G'raden."

G'raden stood, keeping both hands on his life-mate, and nodded. "Thank you, Weyrwoman."

Mara, who was hugging G'regg's muscular arm, raised her eyebrows at a smiling T'men. Did he notice the lack of hesitation in G'raden's voice? A slight nod and an even bigger smile confirmed her observation.

_Oh, I itch._

T'men caught Mara's change in expression, and quickly moved around Normond's muzzle and toward the exit.

"Klamath's waking up!" Mara let loose of G'regg's arm and moved to follow T'men.

G'raden turned around, one hand still on Normond, looking puzzled. "Who's Klamath?"

Mara grinned. "Come to the weyrling barracks. I'll introduce you." She held the hand he extended to her. "He'll love you too, G'raden." She kissed his hand and backed out of his weyr. "I gotta go."

G'raden stood in shock. He grinned at the thought of Mara impressing a dragon. He grinned wider thinking that she just admitted she loves him. He frowned slightly at the kiss on his hand, and then his jaw dropped. He finally managed to say "He?"

G'regg and B'nor rushed to his side, both grinning. "Easy, G'raden" teased G'regg.

They led him back to the bed and helped him sit. "You've missed a few tidbits since you've been, uh . . ."

G'regg finished not too kindly, "Napping."

Lessa struggled to suppress a chuckle as she left the three bronze riders to their next discussion. She patted Normond and firmly ordered him to drink all the water she had had delivered to his weyr before even attempting to fly.

"Did she say 'he'?"


	5. Rumors, Part One

A grin still adorning her face, Mara walked as quickly as she could on legs that felt as good as ever to Reyuth's side near Normond's weyr ledge. T'men was already mounted and strapped onto the beautiful bronze's back. His arm reached toward her, but with his palm facing her. "What?" she asked.

"Before you mount," he looked almost stern for just a moment "remove that thing from your pocket."

Mara quickly retrieved her redfruit and tossed it in his direction. "Yes, sir!"

He caught it deftly and watched her climb Reyuth's riding straps, offering her his arm as she neared the top. As soon as she settled behind him, Reyuth began to rise to his hind legs. "Ready?" asked T'men.

As Reyuth stepped toward the ledge, Mara reached around T'men and held tight. The bronze took a step off the ledge and nearly dove toward the bottom of the bowl, wings spread only far enough to control the spiral he flew over this end of Benden's weyr bowl. Part way down, he spread his wings further to slow their descent, and floated toward the lake.

Mara felt no fear, only exhilaration in their near free fall. She trusted this man and this dragon like only one other pair. And that other pair would be fine; their strength and bravery, combined with the tenacity of their friends, would get them through what was left of their recovery. Mara was now free to concentrate on her new primary purpose in life.

_Mara? Where are you? I itch and I'm hungry._

_On my way, Klamath, love. Look up!_

_You're flying!_

_Close your eyes. Can you see what I see, love? It's beautiful!_

_Ahhh. Is that me?_

_Spread your wings._

_It is me!_

_Do you see how beautiful you are?_

_Will I get as big as Reyuth?_

_I don't know, Klamath. We'll have to wait and see._ Mara wasn't ready to talk about color differences just yet.

_Mynth says that I won't because I'm brown, but Reyuth says that I might because sometimes I'm bronze._

Mara laughed; her readiness would not be an issue anytime soon. _Then we'll still have to wait and see, won't we?_

On their last sweeping arc, Mara spotted Weyrlingmaster L'ret, arms crossed, glaring up from the middle of a group of weyrlings. All the weyrling's eyes were on the spiraling bronze, some were even pointing. Mara's grin faded significantly.

Reyuth landed a little harder than Mara had yet experienced, probably due to their rapid descent, she guessed. T'men unstrapped and slid to the ground, turning to assist his passenger if necessary. But, Mara slid to the ground and landed with a slight bounce. "Much better, weyrling!"

The big weyrling bowed her head. "Thank you, Wingleader T'men. May I say thank you to your dragon, sir?"

T'men grinned at her formality, fully aware that she was merely trying to set an example for the other weyrlings closing in on his beautiful bronze. "Of course, weyrling."

Mara walked forward of the bronze's head and affected a slight curtsy. "Thank you, Bronze Reyuth, for a wonderful and very comfortable ride."

Reyuth nodded his massive head slightly and huffed once. _My pleasure, weyrling Mara._

She turned slightly toward T'men and barely caught the redfruit he tossed to her. "Thank you again, Wingleader T'men." She winced when the weyrlingmaster called her.

"Mara!" L'ret marched toward her in apparent fury.

"Yes, sir!" She faced him squarely, standing as tall and straight as possible.

He stopped barely a hand breadth away and donned a fair imitation of a friendly smile. "Did you enjoy your morning of socializing, My Lady?"

Mara blinked several times at the man; she had no idea he could be so sarcastic. "Uh, no, sir. But the morning was productive."

"Wonderful, My Lady!" Weyrlings nearby giggled or outright laughed. "Are you ready, then, to be a dragonrider again?"

"Yes, sir!"

His hands perched at his waist as his smile transformed into a sneer. "Good. Then get to work! Feed that poor, deprived little brown before he starves!"

"Yes, sir!" Mara stood still, unsure if she should move now or wait for a dismissal.

His face only a finger length from hers, he snarled "Now, weyrling!"

She leaned back as if blown by his bluster, turned and walked toward the poor, deprived, little brown who bounced in her direction, eyes whirling, muzzle open, wings flapping for balance. She crouched to meet him and quickly found herself pinned to the ground by a growing hatchling with a sneering weyrlingmaster looking down at her.

"You call that work?"

Klamath hissed. Weyrlings gasped and moved away. L'ret stood his ground.

Mara gaped in shock. "Klamath!" She wrapped her arms around him to keep him from lunging.

_I'm just pretending to be mean._ His eyes were still blue and green.

Mara took his muzzle gently in her hands and forced him to look at her. _That is __not__ a good idea, sweet heart. We'll discuss it more later, love. _For all to hear, she said aloud, "Now, you apologize to Weyrlingmaster L'ret, Klamath."

Little Klamath sullenly moved off his rider and waddled slowly to just in front of the scowling weyrlingmaster. There, he sat on his haunches and lowered his head nearly to the ground. _I'm sorry, sir._

L'ret's eyes lit up when Klamath addressed him directly. He crouched and lifted the little brown's head to his eye level. His heart almost broke when he saw the yellow slowly swirling through the little one's eyes. "Lesson learned, Klamath?"

Klamath nodded his head slightly. _Yes, Weyrlingmaster L'ret._

"Good." The fierce sounding man's eyes danced as he fought to keep from smiling. He patted the small neck and spoke surprisingly gentle. "It's done now; we move forward. You get some food, Klamath, and then get back to work." He did smile slightly when the yellow swirls disappeared. He stood and guided the little brown's head toward his rider. "You!" He glared as the corners of his mouth twitched. Not trusting his face to cooperate with his act, he merely pointed at the weyrling barracks.

Mara also had trouble with facial cooperation, having heard some of L'ret's amusing thoughts, so bowed her head to meet Klamath. "Let's find you some food, love." She led him away with a fairly respectable show of shame.

Other weyrlings parted as they passed, and moved to surround the weyrlingmaster. Mara could hear one of them asking L'ret, "Is he dangerous?"

"No more dangerous than any of your dragons. Don't you agree, Wingleader T'men?"

Mara smiled at T'men's harper training voice. "Did anyone notice his eyes as he was hissing?"

Young Calloreen giggled; Mara was sure she would recognize that giggle anywhere.

"Cally?" asked T'men.

"He was just playing, sir."

"And how do you know that, weyrling?" asked L'ret.

"His eyes were blue and green, sir, not orange or red like if he was really mad or scared."

"Very good, Cally!"

"But, sir? Why did you get so mad?"

The man grunted. "Why do you think, weyrling?"

Another weyrling answered in a rather bored tone. "Because there's work to be done."

"That's right!" He clapped his hands twice. "Back to it, now, all of you!"

_He wasn't mad, was he? _Klamath nuzzled Mara's hand as they walked.

_He was a little upset, but not mad._

_I don't understand. Why does he act mad or mean when he's not?_

_Because young people, and young dragons, tend to learn faster if they are just a little bit afraid of their teachers._

_That's silly._

_Lots of young people, and dragons, don't understand how important their lessons are. Being a little afraid gets them to pay attention more. _

_Oh._

_Do you understand why it wasn't good to try to play?_

_Because there's work to be done?_

_That's right, love._

_But, eating and bathing and oiling aren't work._

_It's work for some weyrlings to learn __how__ to feed and bathe and oil. But it's enjoyable work! And very soon we will be learning lots of new things, and some weyrlings think that learning is work._

_Do you?_

_I love to learn new things, Klamath! I hope you will, too._

_If you love it, then I love it._

_Oh, good. Then you and I will have lots of fun while we work._

_And the others?_

_Some of them will have fun, too._

Mara fed Klamath with precut meat from the barracks cold room. He was far more relaxed about eating than with his first few meals, as his trust in his rider grew. Afterwards, they walked back to the lake, where Mara bathed him thoroughly as they continued their discussion on the importance, and joy, of learning. They also discussed respect for others, even if sometimes not deserved, and how to demonstrate proper respect. As Mara began oiling her beloved little brown, Klamath began to get very sleepy.

_Now, oiling seems like work, doesn't it, love?_

_But it feels good, so it's enjoyable work._

Mara spoke lovingly and encouragingly as her little life-mate dutifully raised paws and hindquarters on request even as his eyelids slowly closed one at a time. When done, she led him to a spot near the lake, and Mynth, where the sun would shine most of the afternoon. He circled around and down and settled with his nose very near Mynth's to sleep. Mara sat next to Cally to enjoy the peaceful sight.

"How are you doing, Cally?"

"I'm all right." She didn't sound too convincing.

Mara studied her face. "What's wrong, Cally?"

The girl smiled bravely. "I love Mynth. She's so sweet and so much fun, and she loves me, too."

"But?" Mara tried to help.

Cally looked at the ground between them as her smile faded. "The other weyrlings don't like me much."

Mara scooted around to face the girl. "That's very hard to believe, Cally!" Mara ran a finger down her cheek and under her chin. "They don't even know you yet! You've only been with this class of weyrlings for half a day. They've been together for four or five days since hatching, and some of them were together for a couple of seven-days before that! You just be your wonderful self, and very soon, if they're smart, they'll start being more friendly."

"They say I'm too young to be a dragonrider, and that I'll be dangerous in a Fall."

"You are very young, and that could make them a little jealous. You and Mynth have extra time to practice before you will even be allowed to fight Thread."

Wide, watery eyes revealed a mix of disappointment and relief. "We won't be fighting Thread with the rest of the class?"

"Even dragonriders protect the youngest members of their Weyr, Cally."

"Mara." L'ret stood several paces away.

"Yes, sir." Mara began to stand.

"Stay seated." He walked closer, noticing Cally's tears. "Is there a problem here?"

Cally bowed her head. Mara squeezed her hands. "Not a problem, sir. But weyrling Cally has some questions, if you have a little time, sir?"

"I always have time for questions!" He sat cross-legged near the two of them and tapped Cally's knee. "Part of my job, you know?" He spoke with uncharacteristic, but still gruff, gentleness.

Cally looked up at the man and smiled when he raised his eyebrows a couple of times.

"Oh, that's a pretty smile. Haven't seen enough of that this day." When Cally blushed, he laughed kindly. "I love to see a pretty girl blush!" When Cally scowled, he laughed again. "So, pretty Cally, you have some questions?"

"Yes, sir. Is it true that Mynth and I won't be allowed to fight Thread with the rest of this class?"

"Yes, it is." He kept a straight face.

"Why?" Young Cally sounded almost indignant.

L'ret grinned just slightly. "Because our weyrleaders believe that all people should be protected from the dangers of Thread until at least the age of fifteen."

"Then, what will we do for four turns?"

"You'll earn your food and cot for sure, weyrling! There are lots of things that a green rider can do that don't involve dangerous Thread."

"Like what?"

"Mmm. Just because you can't fly Thread doesn't mean you can't fly important messages or important people."

Now, the girl brightened. "Like the Masterhealer?"

"Exactly! Have you met Masterhealer Oldive?"

Cally went up to her knees and started bouncing. "Yes, and he says I should be a healer and that he wants to see me at Healer Hall when my weyrling training is done."

"Well, that's another option, Cally. You could apprentice for a few years before you're expected to fight Thread."

Cally bounced up and onto her feet, and then around in a tight circle, giggling with each bounce.

L'ret winked at Mara and then gently slapped a tiny calf. "Sit down, weyrling!" he barked.

The excited girl dropped like a rock into a cross-legged position facing the weyrlingmaster. "Yes, sir." She still grinned.

L'ret sat tall and looked all around the bowl. He then leaned closer to Cally and spoke in a low conspiratorial tone. "Don't want these other weyrlings to think I'm . . ." he grimaced for proper effect "nice, do we?"

Cally giggled again and leaned forward to touch foreheads with the man. "No, sir. Sorry, sir."

The man convulsed with repressed laughter. "Good. Now, when I yell at you – I have to yell at all the weyrlings, you know – when I yell at you, you be sure to act scared, all right?"

Cally continued to smile. "Yes, sir, just like Mara does."

L'ret sat up straight and glared at Mara. "You!" He backhanded her arm for good measure, and could only shake his head at her.

"Ouch!" Mara tried unsuccessfully to frown, but bowed her head instead.

"Now," growled L'ret as he stood, "you two lazy wenches" he winked at Cally "need to get back to work." He watched suspiciously as Mara stood with little difficulty. "You never finished your morning lap."

"No, sir." An honest frown accompanied her admission.

"You will walk as quickly as possible all around the bowl until you get to the kitchens. There, you will eat enough to hold that big, noisy stomach of yours until evening meal. And then you will walk at a slower pace the remainder of the bowl and report back to me. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

"You, little weyrling, will accompany this one" he backhanded Mara's arm again and fought a grin at her 'ouch', "and keep an eye on her. Make sure she walks fast that way, and slow this way. She is not to run this day! Understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

"I didn't see you bring anything with you from Ista, did I?" Cally shook her head. "While this one" again he backhanded Mara and received a satisfying 'ouch' "fills her belly, you will find Manora, the Headwoman, and tell her you need 'standard weyrling issue'. Understood?"

"Yes, sir! Standard weyrling issue."

"Good! Now, both of you get back to work!"

Both weyrlings responded in unison, "Yes, sir!"

As the two oddly matched weyrlings walked quickly away, Weyrlingmaster L'ret crossed his arms, nodded once and spoke loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. "That's the way a weyrling should respond!"

He allowed himself one chuckle as he watched little Cally bounce alongside big Mara, and then he turned toward their dragons. 'Great Faranth!' he thought. 'He's even more bronze now than after his first oiling this morning.' He looked around; at the other dragons, at the sand they were lying on, at the walls of the crater, at the position of the sun. 'Ahh, it's got to be the angle of the sun.' He took out his little pocket sized note pad (furnished by the very generous Wingleader T'men), untied the carbon stick, flipped to the next clean page, and started taking notes.

Mara listened intently as Cally described Masterhealer Oldive and every single word he said to Cally – was it really only yesterday? She concentrated on each of the girl's words and facial expressions in an attempt to negate her own memories of yesterday – was it possible that it had all been merely a bad dream? She only had to look at her bandaged arm to know that yesterday did indeed happen, and probably just as she remembered; both the good parts and the bad. She would have to concentrate on the good parts whenever Klamath was awake.

Somewhere along the eastern wall, the conversation switched to all the other tasks a green rider could perform for her weyr. Most were quite realistic, though a few truly silly possibilities were discussed with equal respect.

Mara couldn't help but notice, as they walked (and hopped), that other riders seemed to take special interest in the two of them. All seemed to at least glance their way, and some paired or grouped up and actually pointed as they spoke to each other. Very few smiled, and some actually grimaced. Mara tried to ignore them, knowing that being a woman brown rider would cause interest, but the grimaces bothered her. She would try to talk to T'men, or perhaps L'ret could help her understand this new experience.

As the two weyrlings approached the northern end of the bowl, Cally's bouncing and hopping slowed considerably. Now she walked and occasionally ran to keep up with Mara.

"Mara! Cally!" A familiar voice came from the Hatching Grounds.

Cally spotted the speaker first, and ran to deliver a big hug to Brendeen as she walked into the sunshine. Brendeen returned the hug with equal fervor, took Cally by the hand and led her outside toward Mara.

Mara stopped walking, hoping L'ret wasn't watching, and curtsied. "Good day, Gold Rider Brendeen!"

"Oh, stop that! We're all weyrlings!" Brendeen reached up with both arms looking for another hug.

Mara leaned forward, laughing, and delivered, though consciously keeping her hands on the girl's upper back. "How's Saraneth?"

Brendeen released the big woman, laughing as well. "She's growing like . . . like nothing I've ever seen! I had no idea . . ."

"Brendeen!" A harsh female voice came from the sands.

"Uh oh," said Mara.

Brendeen's eyes rolled as she scowled. "Ignore those wherry brains!"

The two green riders who had 'protected' Cally last night emerged from the Hatching Grounds. "Brendeen! You are not to have any contact with riders of male dragons!"

"Really!" Brendeen turned to face them with hands on her hips. "I thought you said I wasn't to have contact with men!"

"Or brown riders!" The tallest one nearly spit out her words.

Brendeen did not back down. "Mara is a friend, and she is definitely not a man!"

"We talked about this" said the shorter one.

"You talked about it, and I told you then that you're both wherry brained morons. Back off and give us a bit to talk!"

"We'll be watching!" The green riders stood in there serving girl positions and glared at Mara.

Brendeen took Mara's hand and walked with her and Cally toward the main cavern. "Have they been giving you trouble, Mara?"

"Not trouble, Brendeen. We just had a misunderstanding, and Klamath woke up before we got it settled."

"What kind of misunderstanding?" The young gold rider's eyes said very clearly that she already knew the answer to her question.

Mara didn't want to go into specifics with Cally present. She glanced at Cally and smiled. "They hinted that I might . . . hurt Cally."

"They did?" Cally couldn't believe what she had just heard. "Why?"

Brendeen saved Mara from having to explain. "Lots of people are afraid of Mara because she is just so big!" She spaced out the last three words and made a comically frightened face at the smaller and younger girl.

Cally giggled. "I'm not!"

"You're not?" Brendeen pretended disbelief. "You better not wrestle with her. She might just squish you!"

Cally laughed now. "No she wouldn't! She's not that big!"

All three laughed as Mara privately squeezed Brendeen's hand in gratitude. Brendeen looked up at Mara and said simply "I'll take care of them."

"Don't make any trouble, Brendeen. We'll work it out, eventually."

"I won't make trouble, Mara." Brendeen's smile conveyed wisdom far beyond her physical age. "But I will take care of them."

Mara stopped and pretended shock. "You're scary, Brendeen!"

The little gold rider turned to the little green rider and laughed. "Look who's calling who scary."

"I'm not scared of either one of you." Cally's innocence made both the older girls laugh.

"Brendeen!"

Brendeen's eyes rolled again. "I better go" she droned. To Mara, she said "Don't you worry."

Mara bowed her head slightly. "Yes, Gold Rider."

Brendeen scowled and then turned to Cally. "You give Mynth a big hug from me, all right?"

The two smaller girls hugged as if they'd known each other for turns, not days.

Brendeen turned toward the green riders with her arms crossed. "Perhaps you'd be kind enough to explain Weyr manners next."

The green riders had to step apart to clear the intended path of the young weyrwoman-in-training. They both scowled fiercely at Mara before quickly following their 'trainee'.

Mara and Cally walked extra quick, to make up for standing, to the kitchen cavern. She introduced Cally to several of the people just finishing clean-up after the mid-day meal before finding Manora.

Manora was quite pleased to meet the newest and youngest of Benden's weyrlings, and was confident that she had everything needed by a young dragonrider and even more for a young woman. Before tugging the excited Cally off to the storage caverns, she extracted a promise from Mara that she would join them; her 'standard drudge issue' needed some updating to become 'standard weyrling issue'.

Mara found even the kitchen workers to be rather cold to her this day. They were all pleasant enough; just not interested in conversing beyond the necessities to get Mara fed. She sat at the table closest to the entrance, having always enjoyed watching the happenings outside, but soon found herself staring at her plate. People would approach, see her, and turn in a different direction. This was a totally new experience!

She had been trying to push back the voices in her head, but decided now that perhaps she should listen in just a bit. Surely that wouldn't be wrong, since people didn't seem inclined to discuss whatever was bothering them. The thoughts she heard were quite disturbing. 'Dragon killer' wasn't a total surprise, and Mara allowed that the full, accurate story probably just needed time to circulate. But someone was thinking that she killed two dragons, possibly more! Others were speculating on the meaning of a woman impressing a brown; their conclusions seemed to match that of the two green riders from last night. Others were 'assuming' that she had 'called' Klamath to her.

Oh, how she would like to talk to T'men, or Lessa. Would this be an appropriate time to use telepathy? Probably not, she surmised; there was no immediate danger, just extreme discomfort.

So, she studied her plate, and ate her meat rolls, cold greens and bread with sweet sauce without looking up to see what else might be going on. She tried to push back the voices and concentrate on all the good things that she and Klamath had already experienced and would surely experience in the future. It wasn't easy; people were even speculating on why she had spent so much time in G'raden's weyr this morning. Didn't they notice that three other men and even Lessa were also up there? Ah, it seems they did, but how dare they suggest such a thing from Lessa! This is why Mara disliked listening to people so much. Dragons would never think such horrible things of each other!

Mara finished her meal, which sat like a rock in her stomach, and then remembered her redfruit. She rolled it well between her hands, tore out a small piece of the rind, and drank the juice she had created. She brushed off the table and took her plate and mug to the waiting, and watching, kitchen crew, thanked them, and made her way to the storage rooms.

Partway down the tunnel, Mara stopped and looked back to be sure she was alone. She leaned her back against the stone wall and pressed her hands hard against it. She had to clear her head of the thoughts she had been hearing before meeting up with Manora and Cally again. The cold stone felt comforting compared to the equally cold looks she was getting from people. How was she supposed to deal with this? She had no idea! She had never had to deal with so many people before. Everything seemed to be going so well, until Ista.

She mentally kicked herself hard enough that she actually grunted; she would not allow herself to ever think that Klamath was in any way to blame for this! Life was always full of surprises, and with the good surprises always came some bad. Klamath was the most wonderful surprise she would never have dared hope for, so, of course, there would be some bad to accompany him. She would deal with this, somehow! But, oh, how she needed to talk to T'men!

She actively sought out the thoughts of the dragons of Benden Weyr. Soon, she found herself marveling in the warmth of the summer sun and the sun warmed lake and even the pleasant breeze up on the ridges. She held on to these thoughts as she took a deep breath and opened her eyes. And there stood T'men leaning against the far wall.

His raised eyebrows and forced partial harper smile were Mara's undoing. She wrapped her arms around her waist and hung her head as tears broke free.

T'men stepped across the hall and put his hands on her shoulders. "What's wrong, Mara?"

"Have you heard the rumors?" She couldn't even raise her head.

"Ahh, are you still hearing people?"

"I can't keep them pushed back. And when people look at me so strange, I had to know why, and I listened a little closer, and now I wish I hadn't, but . . ."

T'men pulled her closer until her head rested on his chest. "Shhh. It's all right."

"What am I supposed to do, T'men? What can I do?"

"Shhh. I saw you smile just before you opened your eyes."

"I was listening to the dragons."

"Then concentrate on the dragons, and especially Klamath."

"But . . ."

"But, nothing. The weyrleaders are aware of this problem, and they are working on a solution."

Mara turned a horrified expression to him.

T'men smiled. "You're not the only one affected by these ugly rumors, Mara. The whole Weyr suffers!"

"But . . ."

Now T'men chuckled. "But nothing! You concentrate on your job, weyrling, and let the weyrleaders do their jobs."

"But . . ."

"They know how to handle this sort of problem, and you will learn from their methods. Trust me, Sweet Thing!"

Mara blustered a chuckle at that. "All right." When T'men stepped back, hands again on her shoulders, she began wiping the tears from her face.

"Now, where are you supposed to be?"

"The clothing storage room, and then back to L'ret."

"I'll walk with you." He put an arm across her shoulders and pulled her close as they walked slowly down the hallway. "I'm going to ask you a question, not because I don't think I know the answer, but because I'd like you to think about it, all right?"

"All right."

He took a deep breath, obviously trying to find just the right words. "Have you ever considered the possibility that you might prefer women over men?"

Mara stopped and stared in disbelief.

"As I said, I'm pretty sure I know the answer, but . . ."

Mara was beginning to understand. T'men was asking her a question that others would likely ask and he was giving her a chance to prepare and even test her answer. "I really never thought about it until today." She shook her head knowing that would not help. "In all the turns I've even thought about . . ."

"Sex?"

Mara grimaced. "Sex." The word just wasn't very comfortable. "Mating?" T'men's accepting nod encouraged her. "In all the turns I've even thought about mating, I have never dreamed of sharing furs with a woman, only men."

"I knew that!" T'men grinned, but then donned his teacher's mask. "Excellent use of wording and imagery. That single statement, Mara, should clear up any questions on that matter."

"And the other matters?"

T'men pulled her back under his arm and began walking. "Don't you worry about the other matters. You concentrate on your duties, all right?"

Mara chuckled at her wonderful teacher and friend. She moved her arm from his waist to his back and squeezed his shoulder. "Thank you, T'men."

"Any time, Sweet Thing." He squeezed her shoulders a little tighter, and rather than kiss the side of her head which was his first impulse, just rested his head on hers as they walked.

Manora and Cally could be heard laughing and talking from nearly a dragon's length away. T'men studied Mara's face and deduced that she had accepted his advice; she smiled at the happy sounds issuing from the storage room even though her brow was still slightly creased.

He held her shoulders until she turned that smile toward him, and reminded her, "It will get better, Mara."

"Thank you, T'men."

With a slap on her shoulder, Mara walked into the storage room. There, she found that Manora had packed not one, but two carisaks, each nearly as big as Cally, with 'necessary clothing and other items' for the young weyrling. In very short order, another slightly smaller carisak was filled with similar items for Mara; including a well used, but very good pair of work boots, several pairs of heavy weight socks, two complete heavy duty work outfits, also used and even patched, two belts, and far too many (according to Mara) more leisurely outfits.

The weyrlings left Manora's motherly ministrations to continue their trek around the bowl, now very glad that Weyrlingmaster L'ret had 'ordered' them to walk slowly the remainder of the distance. Mara carried the two heaviest carisaks, while Cally valiantly tried to carry the third. Thankfully, there was an extra strap near the bottom that Mara lifted while Cally guided the top.

Neither complained when they were stopped outside the healer's caverns. Journeywoman Loralin led them inside, pointed to a corner for their carisaks, and led Mara to a small table. With Cally's help, she removed Mara's bandage and cleaned and inspected the raised welt and cuts. Under her supervision, Cally applied another coat of numbweed and re-bandaged just the cuts on Mara's hand. Mara was given a small jar of numbweed in a belt pouch and reminded to use it generously; it wouldn't do to have Klamath limping due to his rider's pride. Cally was given a small carisak with enough supplies to change Mara's bandage before retiring this evening and again in the morning. She, and Mara, were also given instructions on what signs should send Mara back to the healer's cavern without hesitation.

Back outside, they found themselves now in shadow on the western side of the bowl. Good thing, quipped Mara, otherwise they would soon be sweating like dray beasts hauling firestone up hill. Cally set the pace as they finished Mara's 'morning lap'. She was a strong young woman, thought Mara; she didn't succumb to the temptation to stop for a break until they had nearly reached the lake.

They sat for a short bit and discussed the necessity of carrying these carisaks the remaining three or four dragon lengths down this side of the wall. Runners usually ran that far, turned around and returned to this point to continue around the lake. But, runners, reasoned Cally, weren't carrying heavy carisaks.

As they picked up their loads, and adjusted in preparation for the final stretch, both girls found and kept an eye on their weyrlingmaster. L'ret was again in the middle of a group of weyrlings. He did turn their way once, but only nodded and turned back in the other direction. Mara and Cally grinned at each other and took the short cut along the north side of the lake.

They spoke quietly as they passed sleeping dragonets and a few full grown dragons lying in the sun. They stumbled a bit when they passed Klamath and Mynth, both wanting to stop and adore their life-mates, but both knowing there was still work to be done.

L'ret raised an eyebrow as the new weyrlings passed the established group of weyrlings. Mara realized that this could be a teaching moment for Cally. As Cally lugged her load toward the entrance of the weyrling barracks, Mara stopped and lowered her end of Cally's carisak.

"We need to put these away." Cally was anxious to get on with their work.

"But, our orders were to report to the weyrlingmaster." Mara set down her two carisaks and balanced them in front of her.

"He'll probably just tell us to put this away."

"Probably, but he might want us to do something else first."

Cally balanced the carisak she had carried and moved around it to see L'ret. "But, he's busy."

"Mm Hmm." Mara nodded. "So we'll wait." Cally looked even more confused. "He can't get mad if we follow orders, can he?"

Cally looked at the man, so studiously instructing the weyrlings, and giggled. "I bet he can!"

A blue rider approached the two weyrlings. "Master L'ret suggests that you put those on Cally's cot and then join the class."

"Yes, sir!" Mara picked up her two carisaks with a smile.

As they dropped the three large bags and one small one on Cally's cot, the girl questioned Mara. "Why did you call him 'sir'?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"He's a blue rider and you're a brown rider."

"Oh. First, he's one of Weyrlingmaster L'ret's assistants, and second, we are only weyrlings; we should be calling everyone 'sir' or 'ma'am'."

"Oh." She thought for another moment. "Why didn't he offer to help us? It would have only been polite."

"Ahh." Mara smiled. "Because we're weyrlings and we're supposed to be doing for ourselves."

"Ahh." She grabbed the big woman's hand and tugged. "We better hurry."

The little green rider pulled the big brown rider quickly all the way out to the edge of the gathered weyrlings. All the weyrlings listened to L'ret's lecture on dragonrider etiquette for another candle-mark, and then participated in team-building walking, throwing, and running exercises.

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	6. Rumors, Part Two

When the slightly older dragonets began waking, L'ret filled in the two newest weyrlings on the first portion of his lecture, and then directed them to the butchering area. On finding nothing hanging from the butchering posts, Mara returned to find L'ret.

As he seemed to be ignoring her, she stood straight and tall and spoke as he began to move from one dragon pair to the next. "Weyrlingmaster L'ret, sir."

The big man drew himself up to his most impressive and fear-inducing stature. He winced (Mara wondered if he might have winked) before moving to within a hand-breadth of her face. "Why aren't you butchering meat, weyrling?"

Mara winced slightly at his tone, and at the gathering of weyrlings around them. "Sir, I can't kill a herd beast, sir."

L'ret winced (or winked) again before drawing a full breath to bellow. "Why not, weyrling?"

"Sir, I feel what dragons feel . . ."

"A herd beast is not a dragon!" His bellow was drawing others to the gathering crowd.

"No, sir, but I also feel what herd beasts, and wherries, and tunnel snakes feel, sir."

Now L'ret most definitely winked. He turned his back to Mara and bellowed again. "Weyrlings, why on Pern would that be a problem?"

One young blue rider raised his hand as he grinned sheepishly. "Answer, P'tell!"

Young P'tell spoke loud enough for all nearby to hear. "Sir, if she can feel a thorn in a paw, then she can surely feel a knife in a throat, sir."

"And?" L'ret drew the word out as if he was unconvinced.

"It would likely frighten her Klamath, sir."

"Very good, P'tell!" L'ret stepped aside one step and motioned Mara to move next to him. "Each and every single one of you will learn very soon just what your actions can do to your dragons." He held Mara's arm. "Mara knows her abilities and she knows exactly how much of what we feel can be felt by our dragons. We all need to remember that, understood?"

"Yes, sir!" The majority of the class responded to L'ret's obvious satisfaction.

"Now, if anyone, myself included, ever tells you to do something that you know will hurt your dragon," he emphasized the next few words, "you have the right – no, the duty to refuse! Understood?"

"Yes, sir!" Another satisfying response from the majority.

"Good! Now, unless you can prove to me that you can feel a thorn in a herd beast's arse, you will all be expected to kill your own meat, understood?"

"Yes, sir." This response was accompanied by some mumbling and a bit of laughter.

"Good! Now, back to work, all of you!" He kept hold of Mara's arm, and called one of his assistants. "L'terick!"

"Yes, sir." The same blue rider who directed Mara and Cally to dump their loads, now walked with a smile toward L'ret.

"Would you be so kind as to dispatch a herd beast for our lady brown rider?" There was no sarcasm in his voice this time.

Cally, standing nearby, offered "I can do it, sir."

"Good girl! You go with L'terick then and wave at Mara when the beast is completely dead, all right?"

"Yes, sir!" Cally smiled with pride, but then seemed to realize what she was about to do. She walked quickly to L'terick's side, but without any of her normal bouncing or skipping.

L'terick put a hand out to his side, and Cally put her hand in his. Mara smiled when she saw the two of them talking to each other; Cally would have at least one friend now, even if he was a weyrlingmaster's assistant.

L'ret released Mara's arm and turned to face her. "I did warn you that you'd be made an example of, didn't I?"

"Yes, sir, you did." Mara's warm smile caused L'ret to relax somewhat.

He almost grinned. "It will be interesting to see how soon that lesson gets forgotten."

"It'll be interesting to see who tests the 'right to refuse' first."

L'ret guffawed. "Ha! I'll lay you odds it'll be B'rand."

"That was my guess!"

"How's your arm, Mara?"

She lifted it to show him. "It's getting better, sir."

"You got it covered in numbweed now?"

"Yes, sir." Mara had a feeling there was a lesson coming.

"Good. Take notice of Klamath's gait next time he runs to you."

"Was he limping?"

"He was favoring that front leg."

Mara was shocked and embarrassed. "I thought it was just a hatchling's odd way of running."

L'ret smacked her shoulder and smiled with a teacher's patience. "You still have a lot to learn, weyrling!"

"Yes, sir" Mara answered humbly.

"Oh, you might want to discuss that ability with Klamath before fall tomorrow. If he has any trouble dealing with it, you stay away from any injured dragons, understood?"

"Yes, sir." Mara wondered why she hadn't already thought of that subject. Perhaps because her darling little brown hadn't asked yet? He was so full of questions. She would definitely find a time for that particular subject.

"We dealt with them before you came along. We can deal with them for awhile longer. Now, your partner is waving. Go cut some meat!"

"Yes, sir! And thank you, sir."

L'ret nodded, but then backhanded her arm. "Get!"

"Ouch!" Mara grinned at the now laughing man before walking quickly to the butchering area.

Mara and Cally cut slabs of meat from the beast carcass, while L'terick and his blue ferried chunks of ice from the storage cooler and loaded buckets to the cooler. Cally had actually never butchered anything larger than a wherry, so Mara found herself acting as instructor. The first vitally important lesson was how to hold the knife. Had Cally continued holding the knife in her preferred more comfortable position, she could very easily have stabbed herself in the leg. Mara had Cally hold a blunt stick in the same position and used her hand to simulate the carcass. As Cally cut through a particularly tough 'bit of tendon', Mara released her upward pressure on the stick and Cally was truly shocked as the pressure of her 'cut' drove the stick into her thigh, or would have if it had been sharp.

As they were finishing by cutting and scraping off the smaller bits still clinging to the carcass, other weyrlings arrived and carted off the few buckets that L'terick hadn't yet removed. When he returned, L'terick informed the girls that they were to clean up and dress nicely for the evening meal. Other weyrlings would finish chopping the meat slabs into bite size chunks for the dragonets; they would get their chance later.

The girls laughed at each other on the way back to the barracks. Even though they had both worn aprons, blood had soaked through to their clothing, and somehow they both had blood splatters on their faces, in their hair, and of course all up and down their arms.

Mara ran to her and Klamath's weyr to pick up some clean clothes. She took the time to wash her hands and arms first, being careful of the bandage, and then quickly picked out a clean pair of trousers, a clean tunic and the under-things she would need. She would wipe the blood off her shoes with the already dirty tunic she was wearing.

When she returned to the weyrling barracks, Cally had spread a good portion of the contents of all three carisaks on her cot. A very pregnant green rider and a brown rider were helping her pick out what to wear for the evening meal.

T'mos introduced himself and his weyrmate, Pricella, to Mara before asking what she had chosen to wear. He was a handsome, well muscled man who Mara guessed to be in his late third decade. He stood only as tall as Mara's shoulders. Pricella had been sitting on the cot shaking and refolding clothing from the carisaks. She stood with T'mos' help to see what Mara had chosen. She stood only as tall as T'mos' shoulders and was only barely taller than Cally.

"Um," Mara was a little flabbergasted at the sight of this lovely couple and the state of Cally's cot. "Just a clean pair of trousers and a tunic."

"Oh, no" declared Pricella, "That will not do. You're to be introduced to the weyr this evening. You need to wear something that says who you are."

"Well, that's easy," joked Mara. "I'll just put these back on!" She motioned toward her bloodied trousers.

T'mos and Cally both laughed, but Pricella leaned over the bed reaching for something. When she grunted, T'mos helped her back up and spoke to her quite sternly. "You sit and point. I reach, remember?"

"Yes, dear." She immediately pointed to a dark blue folded piece of fabric.

"What's that?" Mara didn't remember Manora putting that into the carisak.

T'mos obligingly shook it out and held a beautiful full skirt up a little higher than his waist. Cally giggled and Pricella nodded. "That's nice" she said.

"That's a skirt! How'd that get in there?" Mara only half pretended shock.

Cally giggled. "We snuck it in when you weren't looking."

"I thought you were my friend!" Mara jokingly glared at little Cally. "I told Manora that I've never worn a skirt and I don't plan to start now!"

"Just for tonight, Mara. We want to look nice." When Cally's pleading didn't seem to work, she started pouting. "I'm wearing a skirt, too."

"Ahhh." While Mara was complaining, Pricella had picked out a blousy, light colored tunic with pale blue and pink flowers and pale greenery stamped all over it. "Oh, shards. That is not me!"

Again with T'mos' help, Pricella stood and placed her hands on what should have been her waist. "Kick off your shoes and get into the pools. We don't have much time. Take these with you and hang them on the hooks just inside the room. That'll steam out most of these wrinkles."

Mara and Cally obediently kicked off their shoes. Mara took the skirt and tunic from a grinning T'mos and growled as she and Cally walked to the bathing pools. Cally giggled as she followed her grumpy big friend.

Both girls were in their bathing pools before Cally nearly whispered a question. "Why is Pricella so fat? She can't ride her green like that."

Mara fought hard to keep from laughing. "She's not fat, Cally. She's carrying a baby."

"Really?"

"Haven't you ever seen a pregnant woman before?"

"No. Well, maybe, but I just thought they were really fat."

Now Mara laughed. "You should ask her when her baby will come. I bet it's soon."

They talked a little about women carrying babies, but Mara had to suggest talking to Loralin about most of Cally's questions, since the last pregnant woman she had known was her own mother twenty-five turns earlier.

Pricella entered as the girls were drying off. "We need to hurry. The weyrlings are walking to the dining hall already."

She helped Cally dress in a beautiful dark green skirt, a light green tunic, and a medium green over-tunic that seemed made for each other and complimented Cally's beautiful blonde curls.

Mara donned the blue skirt and flowery tunic and was frowning and slouching when Pricella turned toward her. "This doesn't feel right."

Pricella grinned. "It will look better if you stand up straight. T'mos, you can come in."

T'mos slipped past the curtain with two pairs of well cleaned shoes for the girls and a bucket of icy cold water for their bloody clothing. They each sat down to put on their socks. Mara had an awful time maneuvering all the fabric surrounding her legs, and everyone else had a good laugh.

Mara made an awful face as they all left the pool area. Pricella asked what was wrong, and Mara leaned over to whisper in her ear. With an understanding smile, Pricella said simply, "We can fix that."

They stopped at Cally's messy cot and Pricella pointed to a very thin pair of trousers. Mara had wondered about those; they were far too thin to wear in public. She was directed to put them on and did as instructed after staring T'mos into turning his back. She walked a few steps and shook her head. Pricella then handed her a light green sash to add to the ensemble, which didn't seem to change Mara's impression, but did look nice.

The two green riders quickly and efficiently changed Mara's bandage and then Pricella took her by the arm and led her to the exit. "You'll get used to it. You'll see."

They walked toward the other end of the bowl along the eastern wall, Mara shaking her head as she swooshed. "I'm not used to my clothing moving this much. I feel like a walking curtain! And if the wind blows?" She gave Cally a horrified look as she held the skirt out to its full width. "I'll look like I'm sitting on a blue dragon."

Cally tried to act very serious, but a few giggles did escape. She did manage to say "I think you look very nice."

Mara leaned over to glare at her, but tripped on her skirt. She hiked it up to her knees and tried again. "I think you're in a hurry to eat." As they approached her and Klamath's weyr, she shared a desperate thought. "I have something else to wear just in here." She nearly pleaded with Pricella. "It was good enough for a hatching."

T'mos stopped Pricella's objection. "That green outfit you wore a couple of days ago?" Mara nodded. "Oh, sweetums," he addressed his doubtful weyrmate, "it's a lovely outfit; very feminine, but comfortable looking. It'll keep her from scowling all night."

"Oh, all right, but we really need to hurry."

Mara hiked her skirt and ran into the weyr, much to the amusement of her three companions. She turned a glow inside the rider's weyr and pulled the outfit off the shelf. She was shaking it stoutly when the two green riders entered. Not even caring if T'mos might enter, she stripped in record time and donned the green outfit G'raden had loaned her. For good measure, she even tied the sash around her waist.

The green riders laughed mercilessly at her antics, but Pricella finally nodded her head in near approval. "Come here" she ordered. When Mara moved close, the little woman untied the sash and ran it much more neatly around the big woman's waist. "Put your arms up." She tied it in a very simple, but pretty knot. "Put your arms down." The tunic now bloused out a bit at the waist.

Mara twisted at the waist a few times and then turned to Cally. "What do you think?"

Cally looked to Pricella, who nodded and grinned at her, and then looked Mara up and down. "Turn around" she ordered in a fair imitation of Pricella.

Mara did as instructed, but with obvious impatience.

"I like it!"

"Good!" Pricella took Mara's arm again. "Let's go!"

Her voice sounded a little strained, so Mara listened in just a bit. "Cally, can you reach the glow?"

As Mara helped Pricella through the dragon's weyr, the green rider doubled over. T'mos rushed to her other arm as a group of fire lizards swarmed in over his head.

"What's wrong?" asked Cally as she spun in place watching the lizard's acrobatics.

Mara grinned at her. "They're welcoming a new baby!"

Cally started bouncing in front of the straining green rider. "Really? Can I help?"

Pricella reached out for Cally's hand and placed it on her belly.

"You're hard as rock! Does it hurt?"

Pricella shook her head, but didn't speak. As the contraction ended, she stood straighter and began walking. "We better get to the healers." She smiled at her pale weyrmate. To Mara, she said, "This baby's not due for another seven-day at least."

"This baby must be in a hurry!" said Mara.

"Should I go get a healer?" asked Cally.

"No, dear. Rineth is notifying them."

As they walked out of the little weyr, a green dragon swooped down from above and landed just outside the healer's cavern entrance. She stuck her head in and bugled loudly.

Pricella spoke out loud to her life-mate. "Oh, not so loud, dear. Don't scare them."

As they kept walking toward the other side of the bowl, Mara saw two people run out of the healer's cavern. After seeing all the fire lizards flying over Pricella and T'mos, one disappeared back into the cavern, and one ran toward the dining hall.

Mara decided to help. _Reyuth?_

_Yes, Mara._

_May I ask you to relay a message to T'men?_

_Of course._

_Please tell him that healers are needed at the infirmary to help deliver a baby._

_Done. _He paused slightly. _They are on their way._

_Thank you, Reyuth._

Within a couple of heartbeats, quite a few people emerged from the dining hall. Two walked quickly south to meet the person running north. All three walked very quickly toward Pricella and T'mos.

Pricella had two more contractions before they arrived. The green rider remained extremely calm, partly for her dragon's sake and partly for T'mos' sake. The poor man looked about to faint and kept asking what he should do. Pricella patiently repeated that he should stay with her. Rineth looked almost as bad as T'mos; her eyes swirled rapidly with orange and yellow. Pricella's eyes would glaze as she tried to calm her green.

When the healers arrived, and after yet another contraction, Pricella let one of the healers take Mara's place as she continued walking. Mara and Cally backed out of the way, Mara with an arm over Cally's shoulders. They stood and watched for a few heartbeats before they were called.

"Mara! Cally!" The bellow was unmistakable.

Mara turned Cally north and bellowed right back. "Coming, sir!"

Mara walked as quickly as she could, not wanting to break a sweat. Cally walked, ran and bounced next to her until they came within a dragon's length of L'ret. He had walked a bit away from the entrance.

Cally ran the last little bit and grabbed L'ret's hand. Bouncing with glee, she announced "She's having a baby!"

L'ret leaned down close to her. "Is she now? Well, the rest of the Weyr is waiting for you, weyrling." He winked at the girl.

Cally stopped bouncing, remembering that she was supposed to be afraid. She bowed her head and let go of his hand, but still grinned. "Sorry, sir."

"Good girl." The big man stood, smiling at the approaching Mara, and put a hand on Cally's shoulder. "You!" he said to Mara and smiled broader "Don't lose that smile, weyrling."

"No, sir." She walked to Cally's other side. "Do we have to do this, sir?"

L'ret grunted his smile away and winked at the big woman. "Let's go."

As the three of them passed through the entrance, all conversation died and all eyes turned toward them. Everyone at the head table glared at the threesome, with the exception of Masterharper Sebell, who displayed just a hint of a smile. Master Harper Mekelroy was also present, but seemed to stare blankly ahead. Mara's smile began to fade until L'ret grunted once. He directed the two girls to the far end of the weyrling's table.

Weyrleader F'lar stood at the center of the head table and seemed to glare at Mara. "We're pleased you could join us this evening."

Mara kept walking and smiling, but locked her eyes onto his. "My apologies for the delay, Weyrleader F'lar."

F'lar pointed two fingers her direction. "Up here." He then pointed one finger at the end of the head table where Brendeen sat, now beginning to smile.

"Yes, sir." With a hand on Cally's back, Mara guided her to the head table while maintaining eye contact with her weyrleader. She was being tested yet again, but why in front of the whole Weyr?

"We are honored this evening," F'lar broke the contact to address the crowded hall "by the presence of not one, but two Master Harpers. Everyone knows Masterharper Sebell." He smiled as Sebell stood, executed a perfectly gracious bow, and sat again. "And some of you know Master Harper Mekelroy."

Mekelroy also stood and bowed, but with far less formality than his Master.

"Perhaps," F'lar grinned mischievously at the crowd "we will be graced with a song or two later."

Sebell laughed as cheers went up from all corners of the dining hall and the kitchens. "That would only be fair, my dear Weyrleader F'lar, after such wonderful company and what smells like an equally wonderful meal!" He nodded in the direction of the kitchens and was rewarded with a host of feminine twitters and giggles.

Cally had a little trouble navigating the step up to the raised platform, so Mara lifted her. They both stood behind Brendeen, who took Cally's hand in her own.

F'lar's grin faded to a more somber smile. "By now, you've all heard that we have three new weyrlings at Benden Weyr. Ista Weyr's queen Caylith and Weyrleader G'dened believe these three will be more likely to prosper here, at Benden Weyr."

He walked to the end of the table, smiling with all his well known charm at Brendeen. Mara pulled Cally back out of his way. F'lar offered a hand to Brendeen. She took it graciously and allowed him to help her stand. Her hand in his, he positioned himself behind her. "May I present Weyrling Brendeen, rider of Gold Saraneth of Ista Weyr, formerly of Keroon Hold, daughter of Lord Holder Kashman."

Brendeen curtsied beautifully and bowed her head just slightly to the crowd.

The crowd, for the most part, was quite courteous with their kind welcoming, but Mara could hear quite a few derisive thoughts, ranging from "Ista deserves a spoiled brat like her" to "Kashman's spawn at Ista is almost as bad as Toric's". Mara continued smiling though, feeling that Brendeen was going to surprise quite a few people all over Pern.

"Weyrling Brendeen and Saraneth will be trained by the lovely weyrwomen of Benden Weyr, but will eventually return to Ista Weyr." F'lar made a proper show of assisting the future weyrwoman into her chair.

He then turned to Cally and held out his hand to her with a grin and a wink. Cally bravely laid her hand in his and allowed him to lead her forward.

"This beautiful young woman is Weyrling Calloreen, rider of Green Mynth, formerly of Little River Hold in Southern Hold, daughter of Baldaron. Weyrling Calloreen . . ." he stopped when the girl squeezed and pulled on his hand.

"Cally, sir." She looked up at him with a smile.

F'lar leaned over and spoke kindly to only her. "Cally it is, then."

"Weyrling Cally" he said to the crowd "and Mynth will be staying at Benden Weyr, as Ista has no other female green riders at present."

Cally was welcomed as courteously as Brendeen had, with the exception of a few muted whoops. Cally glowed as she executed an awkward, but well received curtsy.

F'lar moved her gently to one side of Brendeen's chair and turned slowly toward Mara. He placed hands on his belt and shook his head, causing some laughter from behind. When he held out his hand to her, his palm was to the side, not up as for the other girls.

Mara grinned and took his hand firmly, despite the bandage on that hand. She was led to just behind Brendeen's chair, where F'lar released her hand and clapped her on the shoulder.

"Most of you already know Mara, formerly of Keroon Hold, but a member of Benden Weyr for," he paused, pretending to think hard "almost two seven-days."

A few people laughed at his antics, but most simply stared.

F'lar was unaffected by the coldness. "This woman has been full of surprises even before she came to Benden Weyr, and I'm sure we will witness many more such surprises. I present to you, Weyrling Mara, rider of Brown Klamath. She and Klamath will also stay at Benden Weyr, due to the fact that Ista Weyr – actually none of the Weyrs – currently has any female brown riders."

Only a few welcomes came from the crowd; L'ret stood and loudly welcomed her, as did G'raden, G'regg with a whoop, B'nor, and T'men. A few forced welcomes then came from the weyrling table.

Mara offered a half curtsy followed by a more comfortable bow, first to Weyrlingmaster L'ret and the weyrlings, and then to G'raden and his 'brothers'. She had to quickly move her eyes from G'raden's grinning face to stop a familiar, but dangerous feeling in her gut.

F'lar smacked her arm, diverting her attention from 'the brothers'. "Take your seats, weyrlings."

"Yes, sir." Mara nodded gratefully, knowing that he had timed his slap with full consciousness of what was happening.

F'lar moved back to his chair at the head table as the two weyrlings moved back to the weyrling table. He did not sit, though, and surveyed the gathered weyrfolk seriously.

"Now," he began, "we need to address a very serious issue." When Lessa began to stand, he stopped to assist her. She stood stoically at his side to demonstrate solidarity. "We all know how quickly rumors can spread in a Weyr." He paused as murmurs began. His next sentence boomed through the cavern. "Rumors can be dangerous, to the subject, and to others." He paused again waiting for total silence. "There are some vicious rumors circulating in our Weyr, having to do with one of our newest weyrlings from Ista. And I see that most of you have heard these rumors."

Mara sat straight and tall next to L'ret as eyes turned her direction. She nodded almost imperceptively when the weyrlingmaster gently backhanded her arm, but kept her eyes turned toward the weyrleaders.

"Let's start with the most vicious and ridiculous. Mara killed a seven-day old bronze dragon!" Several gasps were heard, but otherwise total silence continued to pervade. "Beast dung! I was there! As was our weyrwoman!" Lessa nodded and glared at the crowd. "The extremely unacceptable rider of that unfortunate little bronze dragon attacked Klamath. Mara, quite appropriately, called him to task, and then tried to soothe the understandably agitated dragon. The rider took offense and attacked Mara. The dragon went between. Any questions?"

Silence reigned for several heartbeats until someone from the back of the crowd asked "Who started that rumor?"

Lessa answered. "It seems that the person who overreacted to that situation disapproves of any woman on a fighting dragon."

F'lar continued, but with a slightly comical air. "The thought of Mara on a brown dragon?"

From within the crowd, everyone recognized Wingleader F'nor's voice. "Scares me!"

Quite a few chuckles erupted before someone else spoke up. "We've heard that she caused another green to go between."

F'lar answered while Lessa turned deep red with anger. "I haven't heard that specific rumor, but I believe it ties in to other rumors about how Mara managed to impress a brown. Mara was monitored from the earliest part of the day; you are all well aware of her ability to speak to dragons. Ramoth, Mnementh, Reyuth and several other senior dragons were asked to listen for anything from Mara that day, and none were able to detect anything." He turned to the harpers at the table and received a nod from Mekelroy. "Master Harper Mekelroy has asked to address the incidents in the kitchen area."

Mekelroy stood slowly, using the table for stability. F'lar and Lessa moved back a step, effectively giving him the floor. Mekelroy spoke quietly, but even now, his harper trained voice reached every nook and cranny of the great cavern. He had trouble looking at anyone in particular in the crowd, but did make an effort. "Most of you have seen me around Benden Weyr from time to time. As a harper, my expertise is in observation. Some of you know that I am also an actor, of sorts." He took a deep breath. "That day, I was acting as a drudge in order to observe as much as possible of the happenings at Ista Weyr. Brendeen and Mara were also acting as drudges that day, also to observe what was happening. We found ourselves working in the kitchen, cutting meat for the new dragonets, when Barnath entered the cavern." His jaw muscles worked furiously as he took another deep steadying breath. "Following him were a gold, a brown, and two green dragonets. The gold went straight to Brendeen. I observed signs of impression in Mara and witnessed the brown walking to the other end of the table to meet her." He paused for another steadying breath.

Mara thought she saw the glistening of a tear in one eye and fought to control her own. She admired the way he successfully forged on with his account of the incident.

"The first green called to me, but I could not accept her. The second green moved directly to the back of the kitchen to choose young Calloreen. Mara did not kill the first green - I did." He stood straight now, with his arms limp at his sides, and stared at something at the back of the room, as if awaiting his punishment from this group of devoted dragonriders.

A few gasps answered his admission, but most of the crowd remained silent, perhaps in shock. A few angry murmurs were heard until Masterharper Sebell stood and placed an arm over Mekelroy's shoulders.

The Masterharper's voice also filled the cavern and exuded love and understanding. "Our precious Master Harper Mekelroy found himself faced with an extremely difficult decision and very little time to consider his options. Harper Hall, and indeed all of Pern, would have suffered immensely had he chosen to accept the role of dragonrider."

Someone shot back almost immediately "But, a dragon could be a great help to a harper!"

Sebell nodded humbly. "Quite likely, but the time required to train as a dragonrider would most definitely have proved disastrous to quite a few vital projects all over Pern."

F'lar moved forward, Lessa under his arm. "Speculation at this point only serves to reopen barely healed wounds. What's done is done, and we respect" Lessa nodded agreement, "Master Harper Mekelroy's decision to serve Pern in his best proven capacity."

Lessa added, "Our dragons hold no grudge - most of them have already forgotten about this - I strongly suggest that we do the same and move forward." Her fierce glare underscored the strength of her 'suggestion'.

F'lar handed a wine glass to Lessa and held his own up for a toast. "For Pern!"

All joined in the toast, some a bit slower and less enthusiastically than others.

Mekelroy sat down, overcome with relief and took a large drink of his wine, but still had trouble looking at anyone in the room. Lessa and Sebell both offered moral support; Lessa with a hand on his arm, Sebell with a hand on his shoulder.

After participating loudly in the toast, but with water as no weyrling is permitted to drink wine, she noticed the harper's gloomy daze. _For Pern, Grumpy! _She raised her mug to the slightly confused man and smiled as she raised her chin in pride.

He stared at her for a heartbeat, but then graced her with a nice, but not full, smile. _For Pern, Brown Rider Mara._ His eyes glistened again and one tear fell, but he made no attempt to hide it.

F'lar slapped a hand onto the table. When silence returned, he asked sternly, "Are there other rumors we need to address?"

Brekke stood next to her weyrmate, his loving arm offering moral support on her waist. "No one's ever impressed twice before." Her statement made no accusations and held no malice; it was simply a statement of fact.

Brendeen stood and waited for F'lar's nod. "There was no impression between Prieth and myself." She smiled at Brekke. "I heard Prieth in her shell, in distress, and I tried to help her. She chose no one. She was far too busy merely trying to survive."

Mara heard a new appreciation of the young weyrwoman overcome a good portion of the crowd. She was not at all surprised by the next question.

"Why did a brown dragon choose a woman?"

Mara was also not surprised by the next comment, but had hoped foolishly that it would be forgotten.

"She obviously likes other women." A familiar female voice was trying to disguise itself.

Lessa turned red again, but spoke calmly. "Do we ever completely understand why a particular dragon chooses a particular rider? I don't. But time and time again, the dragons prove themselves right, so we honor their choices and hope to see each dragon-rider team reach its full potential.

"As to the second comment," now she let her anger seep into her words as she glared at the rude green rider. "I like women too . . . as friends. As far as sharing furs, though, I think my preference should be quite obvious by now, as it should be for Mara."

Another green rider spoke up, but with a simple non-malicious fact. "Some green riders don't realize their preferences until after impression."

F'lar laid gentle hands on Lessa's shoulders. "Perhaps Mara could explain her reason for doubting that possibility."

Mara stood nervously, silently thanking T'men for somewhat preparing her. "Thank you, Weyrleader F'lar, Weyrwoman Lessa." She looked around the crowd and smiled. "I'd really like to speak to some of you green riders who realized your preferences after impression. I'd like to ask you about your night dreams prior to impression." She let her smile fade and addressed the green riders closest to her. "In the nearly twenty turns that I have dreamed of such things in my sleep, not once did I ever dream of sharing furs with a woman, of any age." The last three words were directed pointedly at the two unnamed green riders who believed that Cally need protection from this brown rider.

A few doubtful murmurs were heard before Wingleader F'nor stood tall and comically puffed out his chest. "Do you ever dream about me?"

Mara glared at the unbelievable man, and blurted a little too loudly, "No, sir!"

"She definitely prefers women!" F'nor stomped around in a circle looking for agreement to his absurd statement.

Most of the crowd appreciated his farcical sarcasm. They laughed at him, or patted him on the shoulders in mock pity. When he had gone full circle, he glared at the grinning Mara.

Mara shook her head; these on-going tests could be a little annoying. She mimicked his pose, with hands on hips and addressed him almost kindly. "With all due respect, Wingleader F'nor, my dreams usually involve bronze riders."

Riders laughed, and some whooped as Brekke stood next to her man and mockingly soothed his pride by patting his arm.

Sulking F'nor suddenly straightened again. "You said 'usually'!" He pointed an accusing finger at her. "Who else do you dream of, woman?"

Mara fought a blush with anger at his taunt. She allowed herself a brief glance at G'raden before answering. "Until recently, sir, dock workers! Big, strong, sweet, male dock workers!"

The gathering roared with laughter as F'nor sank back to his chair, a smile directed at the big new weyrling. G'regg and B'nor stood behind G'raden slapping him mercilessly as he grinned with pride at her very public, if somewhat subtle, acknowledgement of their relationship.

L'ret laughed as well, but seeing Mara glance toward G'raden, resumed his weyrlingmaster persona. He grabbed her arm and yanked her to her seat, bellowing over the crowd. "Sit down, weyrling!"

Mara locked eyes with her master as she sat down hard; his eyes laughed as loudly as the crowd. "Yes, sir!" She turned toward Cally's 'protectors', and smiled sweetly. Just for fun, she struck a pose similar to theirs; arms crossed under her not-as-voluminous breasts. When they only glared, she shifted her arms, lifting her chest to a ridiculously uncomfortable high, mimicking their 'more than just a serving girl' poses. To her immense satisfaction, both green riders dropped their arms to their sides, and turned disbelieving, but embarrassed faces to each other.

Mara dropped her arms just before L'ret put a hand on her shoulder and spoke into her ear.

"What the Red Star was that?"

She turned her head and grinned. "Um, later? Sir?"

The burly weyrlingmaster leaned away from her and howled with laughter.

Loud smacking drew everyone's attention back to Weyrleader F'lar, seated now with a big smile on his face. When the cavern returned to near silence, he asked again, "Are there any more rumors that need to be addressed?"

The taller of the two green riders Mara just embarrassed looked smug. "What was a weyrling doing in a bronze rider's weyr all morning?"

Lessa had lost her temper some time ago and now allowed her anger full voice as she stood and glared at the rider. "Mara was helping that bronze rider! And I was there, so any further questions on that matter should be directed to me." She left no doubt that further questions were not encouraged.

F'lar tried again. "Any more questions?"

After a few heartbeats, a deep, melodic bass voice asked simply, "Can we eat now?"

Mara gritted her teeth as that wonderful voice threatened to tear her insides out. She quickly surveyed the occupants of the head table and focused eyes and mind, onto the sight of Master Harper Mekelroy smiling at her, in appreciation of the impromptu show he had just witnessed.


	7. Let's Eat

"Let's eat!" declared Weyrleader F'lar, wine glass raised, a slight smile directed at Bronze Rider G'raden.

Kitchen staff quickly took plates and platters of food to the head table before riders and others started moving toward the long serving table. The overall mood of the entire Weyr had improved greatly, with a few expected exceptions.

Almost everyone managed to pass by the weyrling's table on the way to gather their meal. Mara and Cally found themselves standing fairly quickly, as most everyone wanted to shake their hands to welcome or congratulate them. A few of the bronze riders jokingly puffed out their chests and winked at Mara as they passed. B'nor got a big sisterly hug, and G'regg got a gentle, but noisy slap when he tried to hug her. G'raden had either remained seated or just avoided the weyrling table all together. T'men, who Mara had come to think of as the fourth brother, was nowhere to be seen.

As the majority of riders and weyrfolk found their seats, the weyrlings were permitted to visit the food tables. Excitement rose as a fresh tray of hot bubbly pies was walked to the serving table. Manora mockingly scolded the humble, but grinning cook who sat them out just as the first weyrling reached that end of the table.

Mara and Cally, being the newest weyrlings were last in line. Cally frowned at the sight of the now empty bubbly pie tray, but bounced and giggled as the errant cook raised an overturned bowl to reveal two remaining pies.

They ate fairly quickly, bubbly pies first, both starving after their first full day as weyrlings at Benden Weyr. Mara was teased by some of the other weyrlings about eating so much more than any of them, but took it in stride. She reminded them with mock warning that she was bigger than any of them, and it took a lot more food to stay that way.

As soon as Mara finished her last bite, Klamath began to stir. Cally's expression indicated that Mynth was also waking up. They quickly took their dishes to the washing area and Mara, being taller, sought out the weyrlingmaster.

L'ret had been called to the head table and was in the middle of a discussion with F'lar, Sebell and Mekelroy. When Mara caught his attention, she cocked her head onto pressed together hands and then straightened her head as she spread those hands and fingers next to her face. L'ret grinned briefly, nodded and shooed her away.

The girls left the dining hall quickly, and once outside began running. Cally nearly fell when her legs became entangled in her skirt, so Mara showed her how to hike it up. Both laughed when Cally declared that now she understood why Mara didn't like skirts.

They ran and walked fast the entire length of the bowl, reassuring their dragons that they were indeed hurrying. Mara stopped in her weyr and very quickly changed to more functional clothing as Cally ran to the weyrling barracks to do the same.

As Mara ran on to the barracks, she was surprised to see someone leaving the other entrance; she had thought everyone had gone to the evening meal. Whoever it was walked in the opposite direction, toward the feeding grounds. Mara made a mental note to ask L'ret who might be down here and walked into the barracks to see how Cally was doing.

The young green rider was almost done changing, so Mara went to the cold room for food for their dragons. She picked up the first two buckets of meat on the shelf inside the door. A very strict rotation plan was used to be sure meat never sat around for too long. One of the many weyrling chores was to move buckets toward the door to make room for more further back in the room. As she was about to leave the room, she noticed a strange, but oddly familiar, faint odor. She lifted one of the buckets for a closer sniff and had to quickly suppress a surge of anger. She lifted the other bucket and found the same sickening scent. She placed those two buckets in a back corner of the room and began sniffing all the others. Only the first two, sure to be used by the two youngest dragons, had been tainted with fellis.

_Duranth?_

_Yes, Mara._

_Will you please inform your rider that we could use his help?_

After a brief pause, the brown responded. _L'ret asks if this is an emergency._

_It's not an emergency, but his presence would be greatly appreciated as soon as he's able._

_He says he will be there as soon as he is free. It won't be too long._

_Thank you, Duranth. And please thank your rider for us._

_Done. Can I be of assistance?_

Mara thought for just a moment. Of course! _Did you happen to notice who left the weyrling barracks when we arrived?_

_I did not, but I can ask the others._

_Can you do that without raising any concern, Duranth?_

_I am familiar with discretion._

_Thank you, Duranth._

Mara was smiling when Cally opened the cold room door.

"Hurry! They're starving!"

"We better hurry, then. Here!" Mara handed one of the new buckets to the little green rider.

"Ahh. It's heavy!" Cally grinned even as she pretended to complain, but headed out the door as quickly as she could manage with the bucket banging on her leg.

"Dragonriders don't complain about a little heavy work!" Mara closed the cold room door and walked a few steps further down the hallway. There, she turned a glow open to throw a shadow if anyone else should come into the hallway, and quickly caught up with Cally.

"I wasn't complaining. I was just saying that it's heavy!" Both girls laughed as they made their way out of the barracks.

Klamath and Mynth waited not too patiently just two paces outside. Both sets of multifaceted eyes whirled with shades of orange as their owners sat shoulder to shoulder waiting for their riders, the little brown standing barely a hand's breadth taller than the green.

"There's my baby girl!" Cally sat her bucket down to caress Mynth's head.

Mara picked up the girl's bucket and kept walking. "Let's eat over here, out of the way." _Come on love. I know you're hungry, but others will be coming back soon._ Mara walked another ten paces away from the entrance, turned, and being satisfied with her view of the hallway entrance, sat down, buckets at her sides.

Klamath waddled behind her, eyes now mostly green, but slightly yellow. As Mara sat, he plowed into her and promptly pinned her to the ground. _Why are you watching the barracks?_

_My goodness! You are so observant!_ Mara sniffed each of her hands, worried that fellis might have been spilled on the meat bucket handles she had found. Smelling only bubbly pies, she hugged and rubbed her little brown.

_And why are you worried? We're not that hungry, yet._ He rubbed his muzzle up one side of her face, over the top of her head nearly squashing her nose with his neck, and down the other side, before poking her in the chest.

_I am worried, and will always worry when my favorite little brown dragon is hungry. Shall we eat?_

_You already ate. It's my turn._ He backed off the way he had come, taking gentle hold of Mara's hand in his mouth as he did. He tugged as she sat. _Come on. Hurry!_

Mara laughed as she sat up, being careful not to let Klamath pull too hard. _Oh, my, you're impatient!_ "Thank you for your assistance, beautiful Klamath."

Mynth had played just a bit with Cally as well. Mara knew this to be a good sign of growing trust from her talks with L'ret prior to going to Ista Weyr. These two dragonets were no longer as worried about whether or not their riders would feed them.

Both dragons displayed more patience during this meal, chewing before swallowing without reminders, but neither appreciated Mara and Cally 'forgetting' to feed as they talked.

Mara kept one eye on the hallway in the barracks and occasionally looked north to see if L'ret was on his way yet. On seeing Klamath's eyes turn momentarily orange, though, she stopped looking north. L'ret would get here when he got here. But, she hoped it was before bath time, as she wanted to make sure no one else found, or used, those two buckets.

As the two young dragons began to reach the limits of their stomach capacities, Mara looked north one more time. L'ret was halfway down the mile long bowl, walking briskly, but not in an uncharacteristic manner.

As L'ret came closer, Mara picked up the nearly empty buckets. "I'll take these back. Why don't you go find a good spot in the lake?" _Klamath, will you go with Cally, please? I won't be too long, love._

_We'll talk about it later, right?_ A bit of yellow swirled through his eyes.

_Yes, my love, we will. And Klamath, anything you hear me talking to our weyrlingmaster about is secret, all right?_

_I won't tell anyone._

_We don't want to worry Mynth or Cally, love. You go play now, handsome._

_All right._ He dutifully turned to follow Cally, and very soon pounced on Mynth's tail.

Mara turned back toward the barracks and met up with L'ret before entering.

"What's going on, weyrling?"

"I found something in the cold storage you should see."

"What is it?" He glared, not understanding her resistance to just telling him.

"I'm trying not to worry my little one. Can I just show you?"

L'ret studied her for a moment and then motioned her on.

Mara led the way into the cold storage room, set her buckets down and walked to the back corner of the room. She picked up the two fellis-laced buckets of meat and handed them to L'ret. She could feel that he was growing angry, but he hadn't even smelled the meat yet. "Smell them. They were the first two buckets on the shelf."

L'ret took a whiff of one of the buckets and glared at Mara as his face darkened with fury. "And you're trying to keep this secret from Klamath?"

"He's so young. He shouldn't have to worry about something like this."

The weyrlingmaster closed his eyes and grimaced. Mara could hear him trying to control his temper, and then heard him contact his brown dragon.

_Duranth!_

_Yes?_

_Please contact Ramoth and Mnementh. Ask them to inform their riders that someone has put fellis in the dragonet's meat._

Duranth's response came less than a heartbeat later. _Done. They are on their way._ After another heartbeat, he continued. _The other dragons have been notified. All are on alert._

Mara was shocked. She had obviously misjudged the entire situation. She began to worry at her own motivations. She had wanted to protect Klamath. That was her job, wasn't it? And she had kept an eye on the barracks to make sure no one else used the tainted meat, so she had protected others as well. So, why was L'ret so angry – not just at the situation, but at her? Because she kept this from Klamath? But he was only two days old – he shouldn't have to worry about anything more than eating and itching.

L'ret saw the anguish on Mara's face. Poor woman, he thought, she had no idea just how visible her emotions were to anyone looking at her. He put down the buckets and put a hand on one shoulder. He spoke as gently as his roiling anger would allow. "Mara, you are not Klamath's dam! You are his bonded life mate! You cannot and should not ever try to keep secrets from him!" He stopped, feeling a full blown lecture on the verge of exploding.

Benden's weyrlingmaster was a good judge of personalities, and he knew so. This woman would not wish to harm anyone, or anything. But, he really thought she understood the bond between dragons and their riders better than this. Shards, he thought, he kept forgetting that she had only been at Benden for two sevendays, and had only talked to dragons before that – not riders. He changed his focus, trying to boost her apparently shattered confidence. "Why did you turn that glow? It's not that dark in the hallway yet."

She shrugged, not sure why this would matter now. "It's dark enough to make a shadow. I didn't want anyone to find or use those buckets."

"Good thinking!" He could now hear several pairs of boots marching across the stone floor of the barracks. "Chin up, weyrling. Live and learn." He patted Mara's shoulder once before turning to meet the weyrleaders.

Weyrwoman Lessa entered the room at a near run, followed by F'lar, Sebell, and Mekelroy. Lessa was furious. "Why were we just now informed of this?"

L'ret stood to his full height and width and blocked her path to Mara. "It was a weyrling's misunderstanding of priorities, Weyrwoman. The lack of knowledge has been addressed, and will continue to be addressed, I assure you."

Lessa became even more infuriated. This man was asserting his authority over the weyrlings. If she intervened now, it would give the illusion that he was not to be trusted in his assigned position. She nodded her reluctant acquiescence, but glared.

"Mara!" L'ret's strong voice sounded like a bellow in this small, crowded room. "Tend your dragon, weyrling!"

"Yes, sir." Mara's voice sounded weak even to herself. She wished she could try again, but quickly decided not to as she glimpsed Lessa's furious stare. She nodded at the weyrwoman as she slid past L'ret. She also nodded at F'lar, and Sebell, and then Mekelroy as she made her way through the tight quarters to the door, where she found the buckets she had left on entering. She frowned at them and then glanced at L'ret.

"Leave them."

"Yes, sir." She left the room and closed the door, just as the harpers had done when they entered.

All had turned in the room to watch Mara leave. The corners of the weyrleader's mouth twitched as he watched. When he heard Lessa take a breath, he turned and held a finger to his lips and then a hand cupped to his ear. All understood his intent as they heard footsteps first moving toward the barracks, and then back into the hallway. Those footsteps continued a short way past the cold room, a door was heard opening and then closing, and then the footsteps hurried back out toward the barracks.

F'lar grinned at a grinning Sebell. Mekelroy shook his head. Lessa fumed as she turned back to L'ret who also shook his head. Apparently, in her haste, Mara had almost forgotten to pick up the bathing and oiling supplies she would need to tend her dragon.

"Why were we not informed immediately?" Lessa spoke so quietly that Mekelroy barely heard her at the other end of the room.

"You were informed, Weyrwoman, the moment I understood the gravity of the situation."

"You were aware of the situation earlier, though."

"I was aware that there was a situation, Weyrwoman, but not the nature of the situation."

"Why?"

"I didn't ask, Weyrwoman. I asked if the situation was an emergency."

"And you trusted a weyrling's judgment on the severity of the situation?"

"I trusted that weyrling's judgment!"

"She was wrong, L'ret!"

"Yes, ma'am, she was, but that is no reason to stake her out for Thread in front of four of the most important people on Pern! I will not allow that to happen to any of my weyrlings, Weyrwoman! Not as long as I'm weyrlingmaster!"

Lessa glared at the weyrlingmaster. Her expression softened from extremely agitated to merely agitated as she realized the situation she had almost placed Mara in. This was just one of the reasons she approved of this man in this position.

L'ret saw the slight change in her demeanor and took the opportunity to attempt lowering the stress level of this discussion. "Perhaps we should continue this meeting in a more comfortable setting, Weyrwoman?"

"Thank you, Weyrlingmaster." Lessa hoped he took the double meaning of her words.

L'ret nodded with a slight smile. "Masters, if you will go out the door and to your left, please. The first door on the right is my office, or the door at the end of the hallway is the classroom, if you'd like more room."

Lessa put a hand on L'ret's arm. "What about the tainted meat?"

"I'd like to use it as a training aid in tomorrow's class."

As she walked out the door, Lessa asked L'ret "Who will keep the weyrlings safe until then?"

L'ret smiled. "L'terick! There are two buckets on the floor at the other end of the room. I'd like them preserved until class tomorrow, but don't want anyone to touch them until then. Any ideas?"

L'terick thought for a moment and then grinned mischievously. "Yes, sir. I'll take care of it."

The blue rider followed the line of people but turned into the store room. When he came back out, L'ret turned back to see what his assistant had in mind, and broke out into laughter.

Everyone in the hallway turned back to see L'terick holding a packing crate, plenty large enough to hold two buckets, labeled 'Cleaning Supplies'. Even Lessa smiled at the proud blue rider.

* * *

Mara left the cold storage room in a bit of a daze. She headed for the lake and Klamath and then realized she needed bathing and oiling supplies. She mentally kicked herself for being so forgetful as she walked quickly back to the store room. She opened the door, reached in for what was needed, closed the door and hurried past the cold storage room, through the barracks and out to the lake.

Lessa had been so angry. Mara didn't like seeing Lessa angry at anything, but it hurt that Mara had been the cause of some of that anger. Why hadn't she been informed earlier? L'ret called it a misunderstanding of priorities, and was mad because she kept a secret from Klamath. He said she wasn't Klamath's dam. That's where the problem started, reasoned Mara. She was trying so hard to take good care of Klamath. But, didn't taking care of someone also include protecting them? She wasn't Klamath's dam, and Klamath wasn't a human child. That was it – she had tried to protect him from worry, but he already felt her worry because they were bonded. So, by trying to hide the cause of the worry, he probably worried even more.

Mara kicked herself again as she spotted Klamath and Mynth and Cally in the lake.

_I love you Klamath._

_I love you too, Mara. Can we talk now?_

Mara chuckled. _Yes, dear. We can talk now. Will you ask Mynth and her rider to come out of the lake for just a bit?_

Klamath didn't respond, but two little dragons soaked one little rider as they splashed up the sandy incline from the water.

Mara squatted to meet Klamath, who did not push her to the ground this time. He wrapped his wet neck over her shoulder and laid his head on her back.

Cally followed Mynth, who plopped to her haunches facing Mara and Klamath. "What's going on, Mara?"

"I made a big mistake, Cally." The girl offered a hand to Mara, who smiled at the gesture. "I tried to keep a secret from you and Klamath and Mynth."

Cally asked with curiosity "Why?"

"I didn't want you to worry."

Klamath, Mynth and Cally all said or thought in unison, "But we did!"

Cally continued. "Klamath worried because you did, and then he worried about what you were worrying about, and Mynth knew that Klamath was worried, and worried about him and you and whatever you were worried about, and I knew that Mynth was worried . . ."

Mara laughed as she hung her head. "I really mucked it up, didn't I?"

Little Cally put a hand on Mara's shoulder. "You were worried about fellis in the meat?" When Mara nodded, she added, "Why?"

Mara looked up at the young girl, tears in her eyes. She wanted this little girl to feel safe, but she wouldn't be able to hide anything from now on, thanks to their sweet little dragons. "Fellis is poison to dragons, Cally."

Cally's eyes went wide with fear and then narrowed with anger. "Someone tried to poison our dragons?"

Klamath backed away far enough to see his rider. _What is poison?_

_Poison can kill, Klamath._

Klamath's eyes turned yellow and then orange and then reddish-orange before he moved away from Mara and began slowly moving his head from side to side, looking at everyone in the bowl. Mynth's eyes followed a similar change. Very soon, the two little dragons sat side by side, facing opposite directions, scanning the bowl around them.

"Why?"

"I don't know, Cally. I could guess, but that wouldn't be helpful."

"Who would want to hurt us like that?" Cally began scanning the bowl.

"I don't know. But we all need to be extra careful." Mara could hear the slightly frightened, but angry thoughts of the girl, and mourned the loss of still more of her innocence. And then she reminded herself that she was not the girl's mother either; she was a fellow dragonrider and a friend. The best way to protect her would be to keep her informed of potential hazards.

"Cally? It might be safer for you and Mynth if we weren't so friendly."

The little green rider turned now angry eyes to Mara. "It might." She glared as her hands moved to her hips. "But it might not. We're friends and now we need to watch out for each other even more than before." Then her eyes showed a bit of fear and her arms dropped to her sides. "Unless you don't want to be friends."

Mara held out a hand. "Of course, I want to be friends! But can you forgive me?"

Cally took her hand with both of hers. "We're friends." She pulled Mara out of her squat onto her knees. "Of course, I can forgive you." She wrapped her arms around the smiling woman's neck and hugged tight.

Tears in her eyes, Mara rubbed the girl's back with both hands, not even caring what anyone else thought. "You're all wet."

Cally backed away grinning. "So are you."

"Eeww!" Mara pretended shock as she looked at her wet tunic. Both laughed as she stood and picked up the bucket with bathing brushes and cleaning sand. "We better get back to work before the weyrlingmaster catches us."

The girl giggled as she looked toward the weyrling barracks, but then stopped. "Who's with him?"

"Um, when I left, he was with the Weyrleaders and the two visiting Master Harpers." Cally's eyes had steadily grown wider. "Why?" asked Mara.

"They're all watching us. We better hurry." She dug out a brush and a bag of sand and ran to the lake. "Come on, baby girl. Let's take a bath."

Mara stood for a moment, wondering if she should turn and look, but decided against it. She took a deep breath and walked to the lake. _Coming, Klamath?_

_I'm coming. Why are you sad?_

_I'm sad because I mucked things up, and because I've upset some people._

_Lessa?_

_Yes. And L'ret._

_Lessa's not mad at you. She's mad at whoever did this bad thing._

Mara sat down the buckets near the edge of the lake. _How do you know that, Klamath?_

_I asked Ramoth._

Mara hung her head and laughed. Dragon etiquette was so much easier than human. _I love you Klamath._

_I love you too, always and forever._

She smiled as she picked out a brush and another bag of sand and walked into the lake, Klamath close behind. _Can you forgive me, Klamath?_

_Can you forgive me?_

Mara stopped and turned around. _For what?_

_For this._ The little brown rose up on his hind legs and pushed with his forelegs. His eyes swirled swiftly blue and green as he watched her arms fly up and out as she fell into the water. When she surfaced, after she took a good breath, he pounced.

Cally doubled over in laughter, hugging Mynth, as they both watched the little brown dragon and his rider take turns dunking each other, both hissing and growling at each other as if they were actually fighting. Only Klamath's eyes revealed the playfulness of their wrestling.

In the weyrlingmaster's office, six people stood at L'ret's observation window, five displaying varying degrees of smiles.

"They'll be all right" declared F'lar. He and Lessa shared a glance between them, and both nodded.

"L'terick, you have first watch" said L'ret.

"Yes, sir!" The blue rider nodded, still smiling, and left the office.

"Where would you like to start Masterharper?" asked F'lar.

Sebell deferred the decision to Mekelroy. "We can start with the man who was seen leaving the barracks, and then the weyrling who left the meal early.


	8. G'raden Meets Klamath

So sorry for the delay! It is just so unfair when real life interferes with more important realities. :) :{

* * *

Both Klamath and Mynth were quite helpful during the remainder of their baths, lifting legs, stretching necks and tails, spreading wings, standing or sitting when requested. Both little dragons also showed far more interest in what was happening around them. Mara regretted seeing slight bits of orange in their eyes from time to time.

The two newest weyrlings finished bathing their dragons in record time, at least for them. They didn't speak to each other much, both concentrating on their duties while also observing their surroundings.

Blue rider L'terick had joined them shortly after the wrestling match and now lounged quite leisurely on the dry, warm sand a safe distance from splashing. He claimed to be observing their techniques, but his eyes wandered considerably as he 'relaxed'.

Mara became aware of a tightly focused private conversation between Mynth and Klamath. She didn't worry too much until, as they left the lake, the little ones turned their heads to each other, nodded, and began running, or more accurately, waddling as fast as their little legs would carry them.

"Klamath?"

He didn't answer. Both little dragons ran straight for L'terick, who was now sitting up, ready to greet all four bathers. He noticed something unusual and rose quickly to his feet.

Klamath and Mynth separated to run around the startled weyrlingmaster's assistant. As they reached opposite sides of the man, they stopped and shook with all their might, showering the blue rider with remnants of their baths. Their soft suede-like hides didn't hold much water, but enough to cause L'terick to squeal in mock horror.

The squeal stopped the shaking, but the laughter that followed caused the two little dragons to rub the blue rider's legs until he patted both, one with each hand.

"Well!" L'terick addressed the two rapidly approaching, horrified weyrlings. "This much exercise following such large meals could easily cause belly aches." He waved off apologies from the girls. "Do they now trust that you will not let them starve?"

The smiling blue rider waited while each of the weyrlings queried their dragons. When they each nodded, he continued. "From now on, then, you will bathe, oil, and play before eating. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." Both Mara and Cally responded as brown and green heads nodded.

"Good." He crouched down to address the not quite two day old dragons. "I strongly urge you both to calm down while you are properly oiled. None of us like belly aches." He rubbed his own belly as his face scrunched in exaggerated pain.

As shadows were covering most of the lake now, the girls chose to oil their dragons closer to the weyrling barracks. They chose a spot near the fence separating the beast pen from the rest of the Weyr. L'terick walked around them, supposedly checking their technique again, but with eyes roving the entire Weyr.

After each rider had finished the delicate areas around eyes, Mara began talking about Fall the next day. She explained that sometimes dragons and riders get hurt while flying Thread, and that she had been helping the healers to keep the dragons calm. She also explained, more for Klamath's benefit than Cally's or Mynth's, that sometimes the healers requested her help to determine where a dragon hurt most. She then defined and explained empathy, and how she was able to feel what dragons felt if she touched them.

Klamath grew a little worried. _If you touch them when they hurt, will you hurt?_

"I won't hurt, but I will feel where they hurt."

_Does it hurt you?_

"No, dear, it doesn't hurt me."

Cally, thinking hard about the distinction, offered, "Could we do an experiment? Maybe Klamath can see the difference between you hurting and you feeling someone else hurting."

"What do you have in mind, Healer Cally?"

Cally blushed, but surveyed the ground and quickly found a rock with a blunt point on it. "If I poke you, and then poke Mynth while you touch her." Mynth apparently took offense at the idea of being poked, for Cally addressed her next. "I won't poke hard, baby girl. Just enough that you feel it, I promise! Here. I'll poke myself first, all right?" She poked the rock into the fleshiest part of her forearm. "See? That doesn't hurt, does it?"

With Mynth satisfied, Cally poked Mara's arm and waited for Klamath to confirm that he felt it. She then poked Mynth's shoulder while Mara rubbed the little green's neck. Klamath felt that as well. It took a few more pokes for Klamath to notice the difference between Mara's 'hurt' and Mynth's 'hurt' felt through Mara. He came up with the idea of closing his eyes for even more testing. Cally poked Mara's thigh and then Mynth's flank. She stepped gently on Mynth's toes and then on Mara's. Klamath guessed right each time, confident now that he knew when his rider hurt and when she was feeling someone else's hurt.

Testing ended when Mynth asked Klamath if he could feel how much her tail itched. The weyrlings, after complimenting the little green on her immense patience, returned to oiling their rapidly growing dragons.

L'terick watched the testing with interest, marveling at these weyrlings' ingenuity. As they finished oiling their little dragons, he walked away toward a small group gathering nearby.

Klamath noticed the blue rider's departure and the group he was about to join. _Who's that?_ he asked Mara.

Mara turned and was elated to see G'raden standing between G'regg and B'nor. He looked pretty good! Maybe a little weak, but otherwise quite well. And that smile!

Klamath growled. _Is he hurting you?_

"No, love, he's not hurting me." Mara was still mesmerized by G'raden's smile, and even blushed at the sight.

Klamath's eyes showed streaks of orange as he waddled awkwardly, but quickly, toward the group. _He is hurting you! I'll chase him away!_

Mara was shocked. _He's not hurting me, Klamath!_

_Your stomach. He's hurting your belly!_

Mara ran as best she could to catch her little brown. _That's not hurt, sweetums. That's um . . . Stop, Klamath! We need to talk about this._

_I'll bite him if he hurts you!_

Mara's belly was indeed hurting now, but not in the same manner as previously. The excited flutterbugs were quickly growing into dragon crazed wherries. _Please stop, Klamath! You're scaring me!_

That got the little brown's attention. He stumbled over his own paws and came to an ungraceful stop about halfway to the shocked men. He turned around, little wings flapping for balance, eyes whirling worried yellowish orange, and dropped to his haunches facing his running rider.

Mara dropped to her knees to embrace Klamath.

_I didn't mean to scare you, Mara!_

_I know, dear heart. You are so very brave to protect me from such a big man! But G'raden would never hurt me! Or anyone else!_

_But he made your belly hurt!_

Mara chuckled. _That's not hurt, Klamath. That was . . . um . . . excitement. G'raden and I are, were weyrmates. That little fluttering is just excitement at seeing him smile._

_I'm sorry._

Mara sat back on her feet, took Klamath's little head between her hands and kissed him soundly between his eyes. _You don't need to be sorry, love. You are so brave! Why don't you go meet G'raden and his friends? I'll stay here so my belly won't flutter, all right? I love you, my brave Klamath._

_And I love you, Mara!_ Klamath left at a calmer waddle in the direction of his rider's weyrmate.

Mara stood, and with a hand on her belly, frowned at G'raden. She had known that weyrlings shouldn't 'spend time' with people of the opposite sex, but she hadn't understood exactly why. Now she knew that Klamath was just too young to know the difference between pain and thrills.

Bronze rider G'raden grinned and nodded with a hand on his own belly. His gut, too, had done a few flip flops on seeing Mara with her own little dragon. He knelt to meet the little brown, as did G'regg and B'nor. Very quickly, little Klamath was in ecstasy as six big meaty hands rubbed his hide.

Mara turned away, not wanting to feel any more anxious twitters, wondering how long it would be until she could hug and kiss G'raden, hoping he understood, and finally resolving to not think about it; Klamath would grow at his own rate and she would not worry, or push, or even hope he would hurry.

_Is he a rider? _asked Klamath of Mara.

_Yes, he is! His mate is Bronze Normond. I hope you'll meet him soon. He's as sweet as his rider._

Cally and Mynth approached, the girl looking quite worried. "What happened?"

Mara smiled, wondering how to explain this. "Umm. G'raden and I were weyrmates. I just found out why that isn't allowed for new weyrlings."

Cally looked confused, but her worry dissipated.

"You two should meet G'raden and his friends, too. I'll take the supplies back to the storeroom, all right?"

The small green rider nodded, still confused, but now wanting to know more about that bronze rider. She handed the buckets of supplies to her friend and resolutely walked toward the group of men admiring Klamath.

Mara didn't watch, instead listening as Klamath spoke directly to G'raden. She listened as well to her lover's deep rich laughter, and his approval of Klamath's protective nature. She then heard Klamath speaking with Normond, who sounded far better than he had looked just this morning. Concentrating on listening so intently, she almost bumped into the weyrlingmaster at the entrance to the barracks.

"Is everything all right, Mara?" L'ret's voice was kind and gentle, despite its gruffness.

"Yes, sir." She fought to keep tears under control. "I mucked it up again."

L'ret studied her. She knew the rules. And now she was learning the reasons behind the rules. "You handled it well," he said fairly gently. When she only shrugged, he tried to lighten her mood. "You saved G'raden from Klamath's teeth." When she smiled, he put a friendly hand on her shoulder and walked with her to the storeroom.

The weyrlingmaster questioned the weyrling on how she had explained her 'belly ache', and took mental notes. He'd had other weyrlings test the rules, but never when their dragons were only two days old. He complimented her very simple, but effective explanation.

He also asked about the rock poking he had witnessed and was privately delighted that little Cally had proposed the experiment, and openly pleased that Klamath could feel the difference. They talked a bit about Fall the next day. Mara would be asked to help calm any injured dragons, but for Klamath's sake, would not be expected to do any more, and if merely calming from a distance was too much for the little brown, she would be expected to refrain from even that much. Until she was needed, she and Klamath would be expected to participate in movement drills with the other youngest dragons.

As they walked back outside, Mara said wistfully, "Maybe he'll sleep through Fall?"

L'ret laughed. "Don't wager on it. Dragons are bred to fight Thread, and even at this young age, they want to help. That's why we keep the youngest dragons and their riders so busy during Falls."

Young Cally crossed the bowl slowly ahead of two very tired little dragons. As they reached L'ret and Mara, the weyrlingmaster instructed the weyrlings to put their dragons to bed in Mara's weyr.

The weyrlings did as instructed and soothed their little lifemates to sleep after applying more oil to particularly itchy spots.

L'terick joined them as soon as they entered the weyr, but kept quiet, merely observing the weyrlings and activity outside in equal measures. When Cally, after the dragons were asleep, began questioning Mara on the 'belly ache' that caused Klamath so much distress, L'terick concentrated exclusively on outside activities. After Mara explained in very youth friendly terms to the young rider's satisfaction how her 'excitement' had been misinterpreted by Klamath, L'terick informed them they were to report to the weyrlingmaster's office. He would stay with the sleeping dragons to be sure they slept peacefully.

Mara heard all about Cally's talk with the bronze riders as they walked the short distance to the weyrling's barracks. The little green rider was quite impressed with the riders, but worried a bit about G'regg as he seemed to have something in his eye and kept blinking that eye at her.

The girls quieted as they walked through the now noisy barracks and then down the hall to the Weyrlingmaster's office. Cally knocked and both waited for permission to enter.

L'ret opened the door and ushered them inside with a wink to Cally and a lopsided grimace to Mara. "Have a seat, weyrlings."

Chairs had been set out all around the Weyrlingmaster's desk. In them sat both Weyrleaders, both visiting harpers, Wingleader F'nor and his weyrmate, Brekke. The weyrlings took the two empty seats as L'ret returned to his place behind the desk.

Lessa, at one end of the desk, was the first to speak. She directed her query to young Cally. "How are Mynth and Klamath?"

Cally lit up, but quickly schooled her expression. "They're fine. They're sleeping now."

"How has this incident affected them?" asked Lessa, still focusing on Cally.

"Mynth is a little scared and a lot angry. I think Klamath is the same." She looked at Mara for confirmation.

Mara nodded, first at Cally and then at Lessa.

Lessa still concentrated on the younger weyrling. "Why are they angry?"

Cally's face turned red as she tried to find the right words. Finally, her own anger overwhelming her, she blustered, "Who would try to hurt us like that? And, why?"

F'lar, at the other end of the desk, answered gently. "We don't know who did this, yet, so we also don't know why, yet."

Cally bounced to her feet and faced the Weyrleader. "Do you think Mynth and I would be safer if we weren't friends with Mara and Klamath?"

F'lar stared her down, impressed with her forcefulness, amused by her youthfulness. "No, I do not," he answered blandly. He glanced at the brown rider for just a moment. "We don't know which of you was the target for this attack, or if you were both targeted. Until we do, you are both safer if you stick together."

Cally turned defiantly toward Mara. "Told you so!" She dropped into her chair and faced F'lar.

Mara winced at the little girl's back as several people coughed. She looked at F'lar, with a twinkle in his eyes, and shrugged.

"That is why," continued F'lar, "the two of you will share a weyr for the time being."

"Good!" interrupted little Cally.

F'lar glared at her. "May I continue?"

Cally blushed, but kept her eyes focused at least in his direction. "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

F'lar grimaced as his facial muscles struggled to avoid smiling. "You two are a team, now. You will keep an eye on each other and on each other's dragons. You will not leave your dragons alone unless your weyrlingmaster has assigned someone to keep an eye on them. He will inform you beforehand who will be responsible for your dragons. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." Both weyrlings responded quickly.

F'lar looked at L'ret. "Weyrlingmaster?"

L'ret nodded at F'lar and then glared, with a slight twitch in one eye, at Cally. "Do you know what fellis is, Weyrling Cally?"

"Yes, sir. It's a really strong pain killer that should only be used by trained healers, sir."

"Very good. Would you recognize it by smell?"

"Umm, no sir."

L'ret pulled a bucket of meat from beneath his desk and set it on top of the desk in front of Cally.

Cally stood to smell the bucket, her nose twitching. "It smells like raw herdbeast."

L'ret grinned as he pulled another bucket from beneath the desk and put it next to the first.

Cally smelled the second bucket and smiled. "I can smell it!"

"Good," said L'ret.

"Come here, Cally." Brekke had two mugs sitting in front of her. "Don't drink these, but see if you can tell which one has fellis in it."

Cally stood and moved in front of Brekke. She took a whiff of each mug, and took another sniff before smiling at the healer and pointing. "This one."

"Good!" Brekke smiled as she put a hand on Cally's shoulder. "That's just one drop of fellis juice. It's not enough to hurt you, but as small as you are, it is enough to make you feel rather wobbly." She crossed her eyes and swayed in her chair as the girl giggled. "Which could be dangerous."

Cally responded quite seriously. "I understand. Thank you, ma'am."

F'lar began speaking again as Cally returned to her chair. "You both need to be very careful until we learn who tried to hurt your dragons. Weyrling Cally," he waited until he had her undivided attention, "you are not to take food or drink from anyone you don't trust. And if you ever smell something that doesn't seem right, don't eat or drink it until someone you trust says it's all right. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you will tell your dragons not to take food or water from anyone but you or Mara. Not even the weyrlingmaster is to feed or water your dragons. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir. Can they take food from you, sir, or Weyrwoman Lessa?"

F'lar frowned, sat back in his chair, and looked across the desk at his weyrmate.

Lessa answered. "If neither of you are available, they can take food and water from me, but not from anyone else."

"Understood," said Cally. "Thank you, Weyrwoman."

"Now," said Lessa. "Wingleader F'nor and Brekke will help you get moved back into Mara's weyr. You're dismissed, Weyrling Cally."

"Yes, ma'am." Cally bounced out of her chair and smiled at Mara as she took Brekke's offered hand.

Mara smiled back as she watched the girl and her escorts leave the office. Her smile faded as she turned back and surveyed the people at the table. F'lar was struggling to keep his face under control. Masterharper Sebell and Master Harper Mekelroy each looked at L'ret, who merely grimaced, even as his eyes laughed. Lessa was totally unreadable, though Mara thought she might be witnessing a bit of sparkle in her eyes. Mara fought the urge to lower her shields just a bit.

Once the door was again closed, L'ret cleared his throat and began. "Brekke doesn't believe the fellis in those buckets was enough to kill either of your dragons." He waited for Mara to reopen her eyes and to catch her breath. "But, it was enough to cause some very serious and possibly permanent developmental damage." He watched as she hugged herself to keep from shivering. "We're fortunate that you recognized the danger." When she dropped her head to hide tears, he slapped a hand on the desk top. He was rewarded with a firm, but watery gaze. "We now have a lock on the cold room door. L'terick and I have the only keys. No one will be allowed in that room without one of us watching."

Shaking her head, Mara asked, "Who would do such a thing?"

"We don't know." L'ret's growl sounded quite gentle.

"Why did you choose to keep the fellis a secret?" asked F'lar.

Mara turned still watery eyes to him. "I didn't think . . ."

"Don't analyze your decision." Despite the sternness of his statement, F'lar's voice held no anger. "Tell me why, at that moment, you chose to keep it secret."

"I wanted to protect Klamath, sir."

Lessa asked, "How would that protect Klamath?"

Mara fought to keep her tears from falling and shrugged at the other end of the desk. "This is only his second day. I didn't want him to know fear. Not yet."

"Did you intend to let the culprit get away?" asked F'lar.

Mara's head snapped back to his end of the desk. "No sir!"

"Did you take any steps to determine who did this?" asked Lessa.

Head turning again, Mara answered. "I asked Duranth if he knew who had been in the barracks."

Sebell spoke for the first time. "You saw someone leaving the barracks as you entered, correct?"

"Yes sir."

"Would you recognize that person if you saw them again?" asked Mekelroy.

Mara closed her eyes, recalling the moment. "I think so. He had a slight limp and walked with his head bent to one side."

"He?" asked Sebell.

"Yes sir. I think so. He had the build of a man and really short hair, like G'raden's."

Sebell and Mekelroy exchanged glances, but neither explained. Earlier, they had talked to everyone working at the beast pens and had learned that such a man had been sent to the barracks during that time. He was so simple minded, though, that he could not have even entered the cold room without supervision or considerable repetitive practice.

"Did you take any action to safeguard the rest of the weyrlings?" asked F'lar.

"Yes sir. I kept watch of the hallway until Weyrlingmaster L'ret got here."

Lessa asked gently, "Do you still hear people, Mara?"

Mara did not want to admit to violating others privacy, but she would not lie to her weyrleaders either. Tears threatened as she nodded at her Weyrwoman.

_Don't act like a child, woman!_

L'ret's very loud thoughts snapped Mara's eyes to meet his. He raised both eyebrows. Mara smiled just slightly before taking a deep breath and turning back to Lessa. "Yes ma'am, I do."

"Everyone?" asked Sebell.

Was there amusement in the Masterharper's voice? Was this another of those irritating tests? Is that why they had her head spinning back and forth? "No sir. I can . . ."

"Obviously!" Mekelroy smirked and then winked at her.

"What?" Mara's mind couldn't decide if anger or relief was more appropriate, so she tried to affect simple confusion, which was far from a lie.

F'lar, and nearly everyone else, chuckled. "Mara, you've done nothing wrong this day."

Lessa added, "Certainly nothing to be ashamed of, dear."

F'lar continued. "You made a judgment error, Weyrling. The only flaw in your reasoning was lack of information."

"And that would be due to lack of training" added L'ret.

F'lar took a deep, rather noisy breath to regain her attention. "Do you know now what bit of information you were missing?"

"I forgot that what happens to one dragon happens to all of them, sir."

"So, an attack on any one dragon . . ." F'lar waited for her to fill in the rest of his statement.

"Or rider . . ." added Lessa. They both looked expectantly at the weyrling.

"Is an attack on all of them, and us," finished Mara.

"And by extension, all of Pern," added Sebell with a nod from Mekelroy.

Mara nodded at the Masterharper. "I won't forget again, sirs, ma'am." She nodded at each of the men and at Lessa.

"Mara," said Lessa, "I think you should pay more attention to what you hear."

"Isn't that a violation of a person's privacy, Weyrwoman?"

"Excellent question!" declared Mekelroy.

Sebell smiled, remembering his first day of testing this woman. He leaned forward, hands down on the desk before him. "If you overheard a verbal conversation, would that be a violation of the involved parties' privacy?"

Mara's attention was riveted to the Masterharper's eyes. This was not a game, but he was using T'men's playful tactics in an attempt to teach her something. "If I use the information I heard, it could be a violation."

"And if those people were discussing plans to harm others?"

Mara thought about it, imagining just such a conversation. "Are they seriously considering doing harm, or are they just expressing frustration?"

"Very good!" Sebell graced her with a harper's smile before squinting just slightly. "How would you know the intent of that conversation?"

"I wouldn't, unless I knew the people really well."

Lessa, being just a bit impatient, interrupted. "Which is why we ask that you relay any suspicious thoughts to one of us, Mara."

F'lar added, "We know most of the people in this Weyr and have ways of learning more."

"Yes, sir." Mara nodded at each person at the desk until she reached Lessa. "Yes, ma'am."

Lessa tilted her head slightly. "Can you tell us what's going on in the weyrling barracks now?"

Mara took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She didn't really want to do this, but would follow her weyrleader's orders. "Quite a few are pleased to be rid of the 'Istan riders'. A few are worried about someone trying to hurt their own dragons. One is . . ." she blushed as she opened her eyes. "That's personal, and not at all . . . related."

"Relevant," corrected Sebell mildly. "You're certain about that?"

One of Lessa's eyebrows slipped upward as she asked, "A hint, so we can be sure?"

"Umm," Mara's lips twitched as she thought up a good prevarication. "One young man is wondering about another. Oh!" She looked just a bit shocked as she heard more, but then smiled at her weyrwoman. "And it's not one sided interest.

L'ret grumbled. "That would be S'ret and R'ned. Those two are going to be trouble, I tell you."

Sebell spoke. "I think we can all agree that overhearing someone's thoughts or conversations is only a violation if the learned information is used to cause harm, Mara." He looked at each person in the room. "Any disagreement?" When no one answered, he focused on Mara. "Any questions?"

"No, sir."

L'ret slapped both hands on the desk and stood. "If you'll excuse us then, Weyrleaders, Masters," he nodded at each, "this weyrling needs to get some rest." He walked around the desk as each nodded back. "Come along, little Weyrling." He scowled on the last two words. "It's past your bed time."

Mara huffed a bit of a chuckle at the man, but stood and addressed each person at the table with a nod. "Weyrleader, Master, Masterharper, Weyrwoman."

Each responded differently; F'lar with "Sleep well, Weyrling", Mekelroy with a simple nod, Sebell with a smiling "Brown Rider", and Lessa with "Rest well, Mara."

L'ret slapped her on the back as they walked toward the door and left his hand on her shoulder as they exited. They didn't speak as they walked down the hallway toward the weyrling barracks.

The weyrlings were involved in their normal before-bed activities; some were bathing, some were laundering clothing, some were playing games, some were actually talking about their training this day, but all seemed to be noisily building up to a sudden complete shutdown, as if they could not possibly sleep until the very last drop of energy had been used. Most of the dragons were already asleep, unbothered by the ruckus. The few still awake were nodding off quickly, despite the noise.

As they moved into the much quieter Weyr bowl, both sighed. Halfway to the Istan dragonets weyr, L'ret stopped Mara. "Did you hear anything interesting?"

Mara grinned self-consciously. "Most of them are too tired to think very clearly. I'm picking up mostly emotions." Her grin faded. "But I did pick up some pretty strong anger when we left the hallway, but only for a heartbeat or two."

"Who?"

"I'm not sure. No one was looking at us when I looked around. And emotions aren't as easy to recognize as being from a certain person." She shrugged apologetically. "Sorry."

L'ret grunted. "Don't apologize! And don't worry, Mara." He turned her toward the small weyr. "Master Mekelroy will be relieving L'terick and he'll stay with the four of you through the night." He shook his head and mumbled, "I just don't understand how he could have refused impression."

Mara stopped and put a hand on his arm, causing him to stop as well. "Do you like being a dragonrider, sir?"

"Of course I do!" L'ret sounded insulted.

"You know that you're respected?"

"Yes." Now he sounded suspicious.

"Suppose someone offered you a whole new craft, beginning right now, for the rest of your life."

"What craft?"

"A craft you've never imagined yourself in because you like being a dragonrider. But you admire most everyone you've met in that craft, and you know that they are respected all over Pern. But you have to make a choice right now."

"But," A lifelong decision could not be made without more information, thought L'ret.

"No time for questions. You have to make a choice right now. Yes? Or no?"

"But," Now, L'ret was getting frustrated. He needed more information.

"No time. Yes or no?"

"No!"

"Very well. The choice has been made and you will never have another chance to work in that craft. Oh, and your choice has cost someone their life. Now you have to figure out how to live with that."

Weyrlingmaster L'ret gasped. His eyes grew very damp as he glared at her. After several heartbeats, he clinched his eyes closed, releasing a tear from each. He bowed his head briefly and then looked up at Mara. "Is that what happened?"

Mara shrugged. "That's my wager. Master Mekelroy has been a Harper for a lot of turns. He's very good at what he does and is greatly respected by other Harpers, and he likes what he does. Who could have imagined a little dragon might choose him at his age?"

"Very good point. Thank you for reminding me to look at both sides of a mark."

Mara was relieved to hear in his thoughts that Weyrlingmaster L'ret was indeed seriously reconsidering his opinion of Master Harper Mekelroy.

"Now, Weyrling," L'ret placed special emphasis on the title as they resumed their walk, "off to bed with you!"

They practiced 'thinking' to each other on the remainder of the short walk. When they entered the small weyr, they found two dragons and a little green rider already _between_ in sleep, so weyrlingmaster, assistant and weyrling stepped back outside and spent a little time discussing the next day's Thread fall and related activities.

After a poorly hidden yawn, Mara was sent back into the weyr. She very quickly joined her new weyrmates _between_ in sleep.

* * *

Hopefully, there will be no more looonnnng delays, but who knows.

Budget prep time at work, garden prep time at home, all the other stuff.

I would really rather write, but it just doesn't pay the bills or fill my stomach.

Thank you all for reading! Please review.


	9. Another New Weyrling

On rereading 'Dolphins of Pern' this week, I discovered that sixteen is the age when young riders are permitted to fight Thread.

* * *

Mara woke to fear that was not her own. Just like the previous night, she checked the sleeping dragonets first and then quickly moved to Cally's side.

Mekelroy was already approaching the girl's cot as Mara rolled off hers.

_She's dreaming of the attack on her parents again._

_Let's see if we can put an end to this._

Mekelroy returned to the small table near the entrance and returned with a chair, a hooded glow, and a tin whistle. As Mara calmed Cally, pulling her onto her lap, Mekelroy set the chair near the cot and the glow on Cally's pillow.

_Can you turn so she's facing me?_

Murmuring calming phrases to Cally, Mara turned away from the glow while rocking Cally.

Mekelroy settled in the chair, repositioned the glow and partially opened it. Bista, eyes whirling worried orange, silently settled on one shoulder with her tail wrapped loosely around his neck, leaning forward to watch the object of his attention. When Cally calmed and was nearly asleep again, the Harper tapped her knee. "Cally?"

Cally barely stirred, so tired was she from the previous day's activities and excitements.

Mekelroy tapped her knee again. "Cally, dear? Look at me, sweet heart." He spoke with a quiet, calm, gentleness usually reserved for Bista in their quiet times.

When the girl grudgingly opened her eyes, she saw the Harper smiling sweetly, holding a metal tube to his chin. A light from somewhere caused a thin shimmering rainbow along its length.

"Good girl." He tapped the whistle on his chin and began fanning it slowly back and forth. To his delight, Cally's eyes followed the path of the whistle. "Do you remember me, Cally?"

Cally managed a nod even as her eyes moved from side to side.

"What's my name, Cally?"

"Mas-ter Mek-el-roy." Cally spoke in a high pitched whisper, each syllable timed to the cadence of the whistle's travels.

"That's right." On seeing Mara rub the girl's arm, he directed a thought to her. _Please keep your hands still. I'd rather she not be distracted._

_What's the whistle for?_

_It's a tool - to help her stay relaxed and focused. Don't watch it! If you fall asleep, I will leave you where you fall._ The big woman's grin confirmed that she understood, if not his intent, then at least his warning.

"You've been having some bad dreams, Cally." When she whimpered, he continued quickly. "That's all right, dear. Bad dreams are like bad plays. We just need to choose not to watch them. But first, Cally, we need to see if we can learn anything from your bad dreams."

Cally whimpered again, snuggling tighter against Mara, but never stopped watching the wavering whistle.

Mara was hard-pressed to resist comforting the girl. She wasn't thrilled about reliving Cally's dream, but understood Mekelroy's need to learn the details. To avoid looking at the whistle, she focused on the star- and moonlit Weyr bowl outside.

"There's nothing to fear, Cally dear." It sounded like a song and had the same soothing effect on both girls before him. "It's like a bad play you've seen too many times. It can't hurt to watch one last time." The Harper placed slight emphasis on the word 'last'.

When Cally nodded, Master Harper Mekelroy began gently questioning her about 'the bad dream' that held valuable information about her parents' gruesome murder. Bista watched the girl intently.

Cally shared details of the dream with less emotion than reciting a teaching ballad for the hundredth time. She answered Mekelroy's questions as if sitting through a boring training session.

Mara stifled a giggle at the sight of the harper and the lizard, both their necks stretched forward watching the girl watch the whistle.

Bista's eyes whirled reddish orange even as she hummed in a calming monotone. She was 'seeing' the dream even as Cally was. And through her 'sight', Mekelroy was also 'seeing' just what Cally had witnessed that day.

"Go back, sweet heart. Look closer at the man in the trees."

"But he sees me. I have to run."

"Yes, he sees you, and we see him! You are safe here and now. This is just a bad play and he can't hurt you. Look at him again, dear." After a few heartbeats, and some fluttering from Bista, he continued. "Good, Cally. Now, this bad play is over and you never have to watch it again. You will always remember what happened, but it will never frighten you again. You are safe now, and these memories will not hurt you anymore."

"It's over?" Even in a trance, Cally sounded relieved.

"Yes, dear, it's over. You are safe and never have to watch this again, unless you choose to." He tapped her knee one time. "Now, Cally, when I tap your knee three times, you will wake up and know that you are safe here and now. And you will know that you have nothingto fear from these memories. Are you ready, dear?"

When she nodded, Mekelroy tapped her knee three distinct times. He smiled as her eyes moved, with no evident fear or even surprise, to his face. He tapped the whistle one last time on his chin and lowered it to his lap.

"Is that a whistle?" asked Cally.

"Yes, it is." He handed the tin whistle to her.

Cally took the metal tube with care and rolled it between her fingers. "Papa had a wooden whistle. His papa gave it to him when he was young."

"Did he play that wooden whistle?"

Cally's face lit up as she handed his whistle back. "Yes! Anytime his hands were free. He carried it in a pocket, and if his hands weren't busy, he'd pull it out and play something. Even walking to and from the fields; he carried his tools in a carisak on his back so he could play his whistle."

"What kind of music did he play?"

"Everything! He played the teaching ballads while Mama and I sang them, and he played dance music while we danced, and Mama couldn't make it more than squeak, so she sang so Papa and I could dance, and he always played a lullaby at night. He said it was to help him sleep, but I think he wanted me to sleep so he and Mama could talk. Do you play this whistle?"

"Yes, I do, but probably not as well as your Papa did."

Cally looked suspicious. "But you're a Harper. You probably play even better."

"Shall we find out?" Cally nodded. "You lie down and we'll see if I can play a lullaby as well as your Papa."

Cally began to slide off Mara's lap and just then realized she had been on the woman's lap. She faced Mara and smiled. "No more bad dreams." She hugged the big woman quickly and turned to Mekelroy. "Papa said a hug always made him play better."

"That's a Harper secret, young lady. Your Papa must have been Harper trained."

A giggling girl in an overlong tunic slid into open, inviting arms, wrapping one arm around his neck and the other carefully around his shoulder to avoid disturbing his cheerfully trilling fire lizard.

An overwhelmed man with nearly overflowing watery eyes rocked slightly as his hands caressed her small back.

Mara averted her eyes when a pained expression crossed the harper's face. A simple hug was bringing back long buried memories. She wished she were better able to shield; the mixture of strong emotions from the man caused her to wonder about his sanity.

Once Cally was settled into her cot, Mekelroy returned to the small table near the weyr entrance and Mara returned to her cot. Mekelroy played a calming, but cheerful lullaby while Bista trilled along.

Mara listened to Cally's breathing, and the quiet duet, and the dragon's responses for quite some time. The gentle music travelled through the entire Weyr, barely audible, but still a calming presence.

_She's asleep, Master._

_You're not!_

_You're very good with young ones._

_I taught the youngest children, until everything changed._

_What changed?_

_Greed found a strong foothold on our beloved Pern. And too many were too lazy to stop it. _He switched to a less cheerful, but still calming lullaby.

Mara wondered why anyone would be too lazy to stop something terrible, and quickly realized that it would be far too easy to simply close one's eyes to such, until that something got too close. She felt strongly from the man that he did not want to discuss the changes he had witnessed, and hoped that he could talk to someone; whatever happened, he still carried considerable emotional scars.

_Master?_ The thought was out before she could stop it.

_Yes?_

_Nothing, sir. _

_You have a question?_

_It's too personal. My apologies._

_Friends often ask personal questions._

Does he consider me a friend? wondered Mara. Does he know what I was about to ask? He's already feeling pain; will this cause even more?

_Ask, Mara._ He ended the music and lowered the whistle to his lap. _Please._

He did know. And he wanted to talk about it. _Why did you not allow impression?_

Mekelroy drew in a slow deep breath through his nose. _It was so sudden, so unexpected. In all honestly, I think I feared even more changes._

_In your work, you see change all the time._

_But, I know it's coming. And, I can do something about it, even if that's just reporting what I witness. I have some control over the situation. I'm always prepared for the situation before I arrive. I wasn't prepared for little Reaneth. I never considered the possibility. I . . . wasn't . . . ready . . ._

Ready for what? A change of profession? Commitment? Or love? _If you could go back . . . _Mara heard a sniffle.

_If I could go back, if I had time to consider the possibilities, ohhh . . . _Reflecting moon glow glistened on perfect teeth and flowing tears. _I would accept her if I had another chance. But second chances are rare. One needs to accept changes and work with them, mold them into something more acceptable to all those affected. Looking another direction does not stop change._

The Harper seemed to be talking to himself, so Mara did not ask questions. The man had a history she was interested in hearing, but it was a painful history, and she wasn't at all sure he was even ready to relieve that pain. Faces flashed through his mind – a woman, a young girl, an even younger boy – before he purposely changed his focus toward the immediate future.

_Sleep, Weyrling. You have a busy day tomorrow._

_Yes, sir._

_Shall I play for you?_

_If you do, I'll stay awake for every beautiful note._

_Ha! Charmer! Sleep in silence, then._

Mara huffed loudly enough for him to hear and snuggled into her pillow. Her mind wouldn't stop analyzing what he had said, so she changed her focus. She actively 'listened' to the rest of Benden Weyr. She caught bits of dreams, both good and bad, bits of half-asleep thoughts, and finally bits of harmless gossip between barely awake dragons.

She was almost asleep when the watch dragon welcomed Reyuth. She threw the light fur back and swung her feet to the floor. Grabbing her trousers, she quickly pulled them on and slipped her bare feet into her shoes.

_What are you doing?_ asked Mekelroy.

_T'men is here!_

Mekelroy stood and took the few steps to exit the weyr. _Hmm. He carries passengers!_

Mara joined him and watched the big bronze glide silently to the Weyr bowl floor. He was carrying a small person huddled over a small dragon. The little dragon was thrilled with the flight, but also worried about her rider. The little person was feeling a vacillating mixture of fear, awe, and anger. T'men was fighting anger and disbelief while trying to appear calm for his young passenger's sake. Mara also heard anger and resignation from her weyrleaders, and tired resignation from the weyrlingmaster. Other than the watch rider on the fire heights though, no one else seemed to be aware of this middle night excitement.

"I'm going to see if they need any help." Mara left Mekelroy's side, curiosity overruling fatigue.

L'ret walked out of the Weyrling Barracks with a bucket in each hand as Duranth glided down to land near Reyuth. He sat the buckets down and moved to help the young person to the ground.

As T'men lowered the youngster by one arm, L'ret reached for a small waist and received a kick to the stomach in return. He doubled over as Mara ran the last few steps to Reyuth.

Mara put a hand on L'ret's shoulder as she watched the youngster dangle from T'men's arm.

"I'm all right," hissed L'ret. "Get her down."

Mara grabbed the flailing legs at the ankles and turned the girl to face her. "That's not the best way to impress our weyrlingmaster." The girl calmed down on hearing Mara's voice. "Are you going to kick me, too? Would you rather just drop to the ground, or can I help?"

The girl reached out her free hand, asking for help, so Mara let loose of her ankles and reached up for her waist. "Got her, T'men." T'men let loose and Mara slowed the girl's descent. Hands still on the girl's waist, she leaned down to get closer to the scowling face. "Are you all right?"

The girl nearly growled as she forcefully pushed Mara's hands away and turned, looking for an escape route.

Mara caught her by the upper arms and gently, but firmly, led her away from Reyuth. "Let's watch from over here. What's your name?" Another growl. "What's your dragon's name?"

"Nayrith."

Mara turned them both to watch as Duranth lifted the little green from Reyuth's neck, T'men assisting by prying sharp little talons from the big bronze's neck.

"They better not hurt her," growled the girl with a mixture of anger and fear.

"They won't hurt her. You could help her relax, though, so it'd be easier on all of them."

"How?"

"Talk to her." Mara was already talking with the little green, but Nayrith's rider's words would be far more comforting. "Tell her that Duranth is big enough and strong enough that he won't drop her." The girl tried to calm Nayrith, but she wasn't convinced of their safety, yet. "Don't let her flap her wings. Good. See? Reyuth is ready to help, too. No one is going to let her get hurt."

As soon as Nayrith was above Reyuth's neck, the big bronze move aside and rose to his haunches, T'men still strapped on, to provide extra support to the little green. Duranth didn't need the help, but the little green seemed quite distressed. Reyuth crooned gently as his hand-like paws added to the secure, slow lowering of the little dragon to the ground. Once firmly on the ground, Nayrith stepped cautiously out of the four massive arms surrounding her.

The girl at Mara's side breathed a big sigh of relief. "She's hungry."

"You go to her. I'll find some food." She patted a shoulder as the girl walked away and shook her head as the girl made a wide arc around L'ret to reach Nayrith.

Mara reached L'ret's side as T'men slid from Reyuth's back. Both riders looked far angrier than their thoughts indicated. L'ret was concerned for the pair who seemed far too frightened for their ages. T'men was extremely tired, and frustrated. Mara hoped they would get a chance to talk; he seemed to need it far more than she did right now.

"Why aren't you sleeping, Weyrling?" asked T'men with very slight amusement.

"It's a long story, Wingleader. Do you have time?"

"Oh, I wish." A sad smile crossed his face as he slid an arm over Mara's shoulders. He pulled her close and leaned his head against hers. "Soon, I hope."

"It'll get better." Mara patted his back.

"Ha! Where have I heard those words before?"

"From a very wise harper."

"Oh, I hope he's wise."

L'ret cleared his throat loudly and was relieved to see the half embrace end quickly. "Mara, you help our new weyrling. I hope to prevail upon the Wingleader to help me move a cot."

"Yes, sir." Mara took the offered bucket of meat chunks and joined the girl and her dragon. _Oh, T'men? What's her name?_

_Angalyn. She's seen thirteen turns, and was almost hurt tonight like you were in Keroon._

It took several heartbeats for Mara to respond. _Another one too young to fight Thread._

Despite the seemingly irrelevant words, Mara's tone indicated that she fully understood the ramifications of T'men's statement. He disliked giving her that information so callously, but she would need to know why Angalyn was so frightened and angry.

As the men headed for the barracks and Duranth and Reyuth moved back, Mara sat on the ground near Angalyn and Nayrith. She listened as they talked to each other while the little green ate with far less interest than one her age should. The pair seemed to have a strong bond, mused Mara. Unfortunately, whatever happened to them at Ista Weyr had them both frightened and jumpy. Even Reyuth's comforting reassurances didn't seem to calm little Nayrith when her rider was so touchy. When Duranth launched into the air to return to the ridge, girl and dragonet hunched together as if the brown might attack.

"May I touch her, Angalyn?"

"How did you know my name?"

"T'men told me."

"He's . . ." _He was so angry. I thought he was going to kill us all._ ". . . big."

Of course, the girl wasn't aware that Mara heard her thoughts. Mara tried to imagine T'men being that angry, and realized he would have been extremely angry about a thirteen turn old girl being attacked. "He has a big heart, too," she said to the girl.

"He was so angry."

"I don't think he was angry with you, . . ."

"You didn't see him."

The picture Mara picked up from the girl's mind showed considerable shock on T'men's face before anger had taken over. "When did he find out that you're a girl?"

Angalyn was silent as she replayed events. "When he was chasing away the boys."

"You hid the fact that you were a girl?"

"I had to. Those boys, those men . . . I had to."

Mara chuckled. "T'men might have been mad at you for hiding that little fact, but I would wager he was more angry at himself for not noticing earlier."

The girl stared at the woman in disbelief. Her mind went through all that had happened since Nayrith chose her, and she couldn't find a time or place where she would have felt safe revealing her secret.

"If T'men had known earlier, you would have been sent here with Cally and me." The girl was now near tears. Mara reached out to pat her shoulder. "It's all right. You're here now. Everything will get better now."

Angalyn shrugged away from the woman's big hand. The woman seemed safe, but she didn't want to cry; she couldn't afford to cry. "Nayrith says she itches."

Mara smiled. "Then you better oil her! That other bucket probably has oil in it. Can you get it?"

The girl stood slowly and wobbled from fatigue. She studied the big woman for a bit before moving. "You can touch Nayrith." Then she went for the other bucket.

Little Nayrith pulled away when Mara reached for her.

"Oh, sweet thing, no one here is going to hurt you. May I rub your itches? My Klamath thinks I do a fair job of it."

The two day old green cautiously sniffed the offered hand.

_Are they going to drop me _between_ if my rider doesn't know how to take care of me?_ The green's mental voice sounded so fragile.

"Oh, dear, no!" Mara leaned further and stroked the side of the green's head. "Who told you that?"

_The other young riders._

"Oh, sweet one, weyrling training is designed to teach you and your rider how to care for each other." As Nayrith leaned into her hand, Mara shifted to caress her head with both hands.

_Why did they leave Breaminth _between_?_

"Because her rider refused to care for her. Their bond was so weak, he didn't even know what he was doing to her. She was dying, Nayrith, slowly and painfully. They took her _between_ to stop her pain."

"The older boys said that anyone who didn't have candidate training was going to lose their dragon," said the girl as she knelt stiffly next to her dragon.

"That's not true, Angalyn. Candidate training helps prepare you for impressing a dragon, but you'll learn everything you need to know in weyrling training."

"They won't take Nayrith away from me if . . ."

"They will never take Nayrith away from you. You do want to be a dragonrider, don't you?"

The girl hesitated, fear and confusion dominating her thoughts. "I want Nayrith . . . but I'm afraid of Thread."

"Then you're smart!" Puzzled eyes caused Mara to smile. "Fear of Thread keeps a dragonrider alert. I'll wager you'll never meet an older rider who doesn't fear Thread."

"But dragonriders are fearless."

"Fearless dragonriders don't live very long. But, how safe would holders feel if dragonriders whimpered every time they had to fly Thread?"

Angalyn thought about that picture and smiled just slightly.

"Dragonriders do not whimper!" said a gruff voice from behind Mara.

"Of course not, sir!" Mara started to rise, but was held in place by a hand on her shoulder.

"Stay seated, Weyrling Mara."

"Yes, sir."

L'ret carefully sat not too close to the new weyrling. "Is everything all right here?"

"Yes, sir," answered Mara. "Nayrith needs a bit of oil, and a bit of numbweed?" She addressed the question to Angalyn, who nodded.

"Then get to it, weyrlings. This old rider needs his sleep, and you three have a busy day ahead of you." Even as he spoke, he dug a small container of numbweed out of his belt pouch and handed it to Mara.

While the girls oiled the sleepy and now more relaxed little green dragon, L'ret questioned Angalyn about her training up to this point. He was quite distressed – though only Mara picked up on it - to learn how the older boys were taunting the newer weyrlings. It also seemed that weyrling training had been severely disrupted several times by unruly, self-important trouble-makers until riders from other weyrs lent their discipline to Ista's weyrlingmaster and assistants. He would have to learn more about that problem; he had thought A'mos to be quite capable, other than his revulsion of girl riders.

When Angalyn had trouble waking her now pain-free lifemate, L'ret picked up the little green and carried her to Mara's and Cally's weyr. This distressed Angalyn only until she heard the gruff weyrlingmaster talking to Nayrith.

"That's a sweet girl," he crooned in his gravelly voice as Nayrith wrapped her neck over his shoulder and her tail around his waist. "We need to feed you up, don't we darling?" He continued his soothing reassurances until they reached the weyr. He nodded at Mekelroy and T'men standing just outside, walked quietly into the weyr, and deposited the limp little green carefully next to Klamath on the sweet smelling dried grain stalks.

Klamath stirred only briefly, but soon had his tail stretched over little Nayrith's back as she snuggled up to his free side.

L'ret surprised Mara by smiling at the three dragonets before clearing his throat and growling quietly at the girls. "Get some sleep, weyrlings."

"Yes, sir," whispered Mara with a grin. She held out a hand to Angalyn. "Let me show you where everything is." The girl didn't take the offered hand, but did take a step closer, so Mara gently laid her hand on a shoulder and guided her back to the rider's weyr.

In the smaller weyr, Mara made sure the girl knew where the glows were and then helped her find a night tunic from Cally's chests of clothing. Then she showed her to the necessary and left her there to take care of personal business and to change. Angalyn returned still wearing her dirty clothes with tears welling up.

"What's wrong, Angalyn?"

She cautiously held out the night tunic. "I got blood on this. Will it come out?"

"Where'd the blood come from?" Mara took the soiled tunic and held it up. The stain was high up on the back.

"My back," said the girl sheepishly.

"Let me see." The tunic laid aside, Mara turned the girl and lifted her dirty tunic. And gasped. "Oh, dear. Let's get back to the necessary and get this cleaned up." The girl's back and sides were covered with bruises, not all received since impressing Nayrith. Several gashes were festering from lack of being cleaned.

_Master Mekelroy?_

_Yes, Mara._

_Do you see any lights in the Healer's caverns? This girl needs a healer._

_I'll go bring one of them here. _After a pause, he corrected himself in exasperation. _Change of plans; T'men is coming your way._

Mara spread a wet washing cloth over the girl's back just as T'men spoke from the other side of the curtain.

"May I enter?"

"No," said Angalyn at the same time Mara said "Yes, sir."

T'men walked in far more calmly than his approaching boot heels might have indicated. He sat next to Mara on the stone bench and addressed Angalyn. "You've been injured?" The girl nodded reluctantly. "Let me see." When Mara lowered the cloth, tightly clenched lips quieted a sharp intake of breath. He scooted away from Mara and pulled the girl to stand between the two adults. "How much of this happened this day?"

The girl's eyes dropped to study the rock floor. "Some of the bruises. The cuts happened yesterday."

T'men gently lifted her chin. "Some of these happened before you came to Ista Weyr."

Angalyn nodded and closed her watery eyes.

T'men squeezed her chin gently. "There's no shame in this Angalyn. You're too small to stop something like this. But you will learn." When the girl started shaking, he pulled her head to his shoulder. "It's all right. Let's get you to a healer." As she sobbed quietly, he guided her arms around his neck. "Hold on." He pressed one hand to her lower back and twisted her slightly to put his other arm behind her knees. When she relaxed, he stood, lifting her with him.

Wingleader T'men walked slowly and carefully to avoid jostling Angalyn, Mara close by. As they walked, they 'talked' about what was happening at Ista Weyr. Toric was still there for the time being, being forced under armed guard to break up firestone, clean the dragonet's waste trench, and other equally unpleasant tasks throughout the Weyr. He was also being forced to watch as the weyrlings worked with their new lifemates – and adamantly refused to acknowledge the difference between properly impressed pairs and those forced together by lack of choice. And another little dragon had gone _between_ just before he learned of the disturbance involving Angalyn.

The last was thought with such anguish, Mara laid a hand on his arm as they walked.

_It's good that you're here at Benden Weyr, Mara. I can't even imagine what you would be hearing at Ista Weyr._

_It will get better, T'men!_

_Ha!_ His scowl spoke volumes about his disparaging belief in that possibility at this moment.

Master Healer Tarminas sat at a small desk just inside the Healer's caverns, writing something on a pad of book-sized paper. "Now what?" he asked as the three people walked in.

T'men's glare scolded the man for such indifference. "She's covered with bruises and has some infected cuts."

"Oh, dear." Tarminas' demeanor changed completely. "Bring her in here." He led the way to a small room with a tall padded table and indicated that T'men should place her there. "Where are these cuts?"

"On her back."

"Let her sit then." When he could see the girl's face, he smiled as pleasantly as he could without straining long unused muscles. "What's your name, dear?" "Angalyn? That's a pretty name. Are you a dragonrider, too?" "Oh, good. You'll have lots of help in healing then." He moved to the other side of the table and gently lifted her tunic. "Oh, my. Do you have cuts on your front side too?" "No? Good. You lie down so I can take care of these."

Mara gave T'men a look of pleasantly surprised shock, causing the Wingleader to almost smile.

As Tarminas applied a generous amount of numbweed to the girl's back and visible sides, he kept up a continuous conversation with the girl. "My name is Tarminas, and I've taken care of lots of cuts like this, so don't worry dear."

"I need to get back to Ista," said T'men to Mara and Tarminas. When Angalyn turned her head back in his direction, he leaned down, smiled his harper smile and stroked her short hair. "You'll be fine here, Angalyn. Everything will get better now. You'll see."

"Thank you, sir."

T'men smiled a little wider before he stood and cocked his head slightly at Mara's annoyingly confident smile.

_When will you be back here?_

_Not soon enough in my opinion. Take care, Sweet Thing._

_Yes, sir._

T'men chuckled as he left the room.

Once Angalyn's back was numbed up, cleaned up and patched up, Tarminas with Mara present for the girl's comfort, gently and expertly examined the rest of her frail undernourished body. She had been hit or kicked for quite some time, he determined, but he made fairly light of the multiple bruises on her torso, arms and legs, saying that they would heal just fine in no time at all. Because she was a dragonrider, he said, and would not be alone – he received a nod of agreement from Mara – Angalyn would be allowed to return to her weyr as long as she promised Tarminas she would not hesitate to return if she had any problems. He then listed the conditions she and Mara should keep a watch for and handed Angalyn a container of numbweed.

"Now, don't hesitate to use this anytime you feel even a little bit of discomfort, Rider Angalyn." Even though the girl had stated several times that she was just a weyrling, he insisted on calling her 'Rider'. "We wouldn't want your dragon to limp, now would we?"

"No, sir. I'll use it. Thank you, sir."

"Good girl. Now you run along and get some sleep. It's long past your bedtime, Riders!"

"Thank you, Master Healer," said Mara with true appreciation for his newly acquired cot-side manner.

Angalyn was so tired and so numb, Mara offered a 'dragonback' ride across the bowl. Angalyn actually giggled when Mara stooped to help her mount. By the time they reached their weyr though, Angalyn was asleep and Mara needed help from Mekelroy to get her into her cot.

Mara lay down and Mekelroy began another quiet calming lullaby on his tin whistle with Bista's accompaniment.

_Master?_

_Yes, Mara._

_Things will get better at Ista Weyr, won't they?_

_Of course they will, now that the problem has been discovered. T'men is just feeling overwhelmed._

How did he know she was thinking about T'men? Did he hear thoughts, too?

_Sleep, weyrling._

_Yes, sir._

Mara, focusing on the Harper's music, was not able to listen to all the beautiful notes; she didn't even hear the end of his first melody. Nor did she hear the satisfied chuckle at the end of the tune.

* * *

Trying to get back on schedule, but . . .

Hope you enjoy this installment.


	10. Welcome, Angalyn!

Mara woke to the laughing of several young people and a rather impatient "Sshhh". The weyr was already well lit from the reflection of sunlight off the highest western peaks of the bowl.

"Uh oh, not again," whispered Mara.

_You're awake!_

_Good morning my love._

_Mynth and Nayrith and I are in the lake. Are you coming?_

_Very soon, my sweet Klamath. I need to get dressed first._

_Hurry! The water is wonderful! We like Nayrith and so do the fire lizards._

Mara swung her legs off the cot, rolling into a seated position, holding her breath to silence a moan. L'terick stood in the weyr opening with a finger to his lips, and then pointed to Angalyn's cot. The girl was apparently still sleeping. _Has Nayrith been treated with numbweed yet love?_

_Yes. When she woke up, she told me she hurt, so I asked Cally to help her. And then Cally took us all to the dragon healer's before she would feed us. And then while Nayrith ate a little because she was so hungry, Mynth and I went swimming. Then Cally gave us all a bath, and now we're all hungry and we all itch._

Well, thought Mara as she grinned at Klamath's rambling narrative, at least she was early enough to help with feeding. _Who's watching you today?_

_Mack is watching. He tried to help us bathe, but got too much water in his eyes. Bista is helping him watch us._

Mack? she wondered. And Bista – he must mean Mekelroy. Too much water? Oh dear. _Where's our weyrlingmaster?_

_He went to the other end for his morning klah. He's not very happy, but he's never happy until he drinks his klah._

So, L'ret only recently woke up! Good. Maybe Mara could be doing her work before he returned. She swallowed a groan as she slipped on her trousers and stood, wondering how much longer her stiffness would last. She started walking to Angalyn's cot but was stopped by a hand on her arm.

L'terick whispered close to Mara's ear. "The Healers were here just after sunrise. They covered her with numbweed again and said sleep will do her good. I'll keep an eye on her."

"Thank you," whispered back Mara.

"L'ret just passed by on his way to morning klah. If you hurry, you can be outside before he gets back."

Mara nodded a smile at the grinning blue rider before heading back to the rider's weyr to prepare for another day of weyrling training. Passing Angalyn's cot, she was pleased to see the girl sleeping comfortably and peacefully.

After her morning ablutions and dressing, she hurried outside toward the lake and her happy little brown dragon.

A loud gruff bellow stopped her midstride.

"Weyrling Mara!" called L'ret from almost halfway down the length of the bowl.

Mara turned his direction and matched his bellow. "Yes, Weyrlingmaster." A wave of his arm had her trotting awkwardly to meet him.

_What's wrong? _asked Klamath.

_Nothing, dear. He just wants to talk to me._ "I hope," she muttered.

When she reached L'ret, Mara fell into step at his left side. His face twitched as if undecided about smiling or grimacing.

"Did you sleep well, My Lady?" He didn't sound quite as sarcastic as yesterday.

Mara grinned at the man. "I did, sir! And you?"

Laughter erupted even before the man was able to open his mouth. "I've been caught," he finally managed. "Sharding assistants are taking too much initiative."

Still grinning, she offered, "It was a late night, sir. Even the roughest, toughest dragonrider needs his sleep."

"Don't you start!" He wagged a finger at her. "How's our new weyrling?"

"Sleeping peacefully when I left."

"Good. Poor thing. I'll ask you to keep a watch on her, Mara, until she gets more comfortable with the rest of us. T'men learned more about her after talking to Ista's Hold Harper last night." L'ret immediately regretted mentioning T'men's added knowledge of Angalyn as they were far too close to the rest of the weyrlings.

"What'd he learn, sir?"

"Later. Now, get to work, weyrling!"

"Yes, sir!" Mara walked quickly toward the lake again, ignoring laughter and some rude thoughts pointed at her, just as Cally and three little dragons walked out of the water.

L'ret laughed as Mara was again knocked to the ground by her little brown, and then soaked by a hug from a giggling little wet green rider. He watched as the girls and their dragons lavished extra attention on little Nayrith, who seemed almost as happy as any dragon her age. The weyrlingmaster made a mental note to ask how much the little green ate this morning, worried about her lack of appetite last night.

He also noted with satisfaction that all the weyrlings were in various stages of preparing for the coming day; some were bathing their dragons, some were oiling or feeding, and a few had already started their morning laps.

The weyrlingmaster waved down one of his assistants. Bronze rider K'remin was only in his fifth decade but his dragon, like Duranth, had been wing damaged enough to forbid long or strenuous flights. K'remin had only recently come to accept that they would never fly Thread again and was now determined to still be of use to the Weyr he had lived in and served with since impressing Emreth.

"K'remin," began L'ret as the man approached. "Will you kindly take over watching the Istan girls? Mekelroy's been on watch all night and could probably use a bit of a break from all these little dragons."

"As you wish, Weyrlingmaster." K'remin bowed his head slightly, still unaccustomed to answering to a brown rider, but making a concerted effort to learn his new duties. As his head rose his jaw dropped, his eyes looking past L'ret.

L'ret turned to see what was now causing sad regret to fill the bronze rider's eyes.

Saraneth, Brendeen at her shoulder, waddled almost regally toward the lake. She walked carefully, wings just slightly extended for extra balance, head held high on her long skinny neck as she maintained focus on their objective. Brendeen was the picture of well-bred holder femininity, except for the bucket over one arm and the loose working clothes she wore. Queen and rider both focused on their destination, ignoring the appreciative stares from now quiet weyrlings and seasoned riders alike.

Biradeth, Tianna at her side, followed a respectable distance to one side and slightly behind the youngest queen and her rider. The girls spoke to each other as they traversed the bowl, Tianna still able to see over Biradeth's shoulders, but not for much longer. Their course changed slightly as they made their way toward the weyrlingmaster.

Lenarra, Benden's adult junior queen rider, followed the weyrling queens alongside her massive gold, Ayrieth. Ayrieth kept watch over the young queens as if they were both her own daughters, swaying her head just enough to let everyone in the Weyr know that she saw each of them and was prepared to protect her charges.

L'ret, an appreciative grin on his normally severe visage, backhanded his newest assistant on the arm. "Our dragons may never be able to fly those lovely queens, K'remin, but you and I have the enviable task of training them every day for the next two turns. No other male riders will be so close so often to those marvelous beauties."

When the bronze rider huffed, his resignation turning to anticipation, L'ret backhanded him again. "Let's show a little respect and meet them part way, shall we?" He had taken several steps before he heard the other man take his first step.

"Yes, sir!" K'remin nearly whispered, his recent subordination totally forgotten for the moment.

Weyrlingmaster and assistant met up with the three queen riders to discuss the day's planned activities. The young golds would join the remainder of the weyrlings in classes and then movement exercises so that Ayrieth and Lenarra could prepare for and participate in fighting Thread later this day. Due to the previous day's atrocious events, Saraneth would be asked to stay close to Mynth, Nayrith and Klamath; K'remin would keep watch on all of them. Biradeth would be free to associate as she chose, but she and her rider quickly made it clear that they would stay with Saraneth and Brendeen; four more watchful eyes could only add to the Istan dragon's protection.

K'remin nodded appreciatively at the young weyrwoman's sense of duty. He had not been present at Biradeth's hatching, having been still recuperating and reevaluating, but found new reason to mourn his dragon's injuries. This young woman, he felt, had a promising future where ever she might find herself.

The two men escorted the weyrling queens toward the lake while Lenarra returned to the northern end of the bowl. L'ret introduced Cally and Mara to K'remin, left him with them, and continued on to the lake with the two little golden dragons; he needed to assess their progress after all, and what better way to determine their conditions than to help bathe them.

Mara and Cally oiled their dragons while offering instruction to Mekelroy who was determined to oil little Nayrith. The Harper allowed Mara to oil her eyes, but was now diligently applying liberal amounts of oil to the remainder of the little green, despite tear-filled eyes. K'remin alternated between watching the little queens, his current charges and the rest of the Weyr.

_Are you all right, Master?_

_She's beautiful. If only . . ._ He didn't finish his thought, shaking his head in regret.

_Your decision made _perfect_ sense at the time. We can't change the past, Master._

_Who's the Master Harper? _Humorous irritation colored his response.

_You are . . . Mack?_

Now Mekelroy laughed out loud. _They wanted to call me M'Kroy. I couldn't allow that._

_You could have insisted on your proper name._

_One of the advantages of my profession is having a different nickname for each of my 'personalities'. Mack fits who I am here, with them. Did you know they think to me? Even some of the older ones?_

_Does that bother you?_

_No. Their timing is excellent._ He didn't tell her how they seemed to know when he despaired most about little Reaneth.

Oiling finished, 'Mack' offered to return to the barracks for buckets of meat while the girls played with the dragons. When he returned, feigning highly over-exaggerated exhaustion, Cally ran to take one of the three heavy buckets from him.

Mack made a special point to remind Cally to check the meat she was about to feed her pretty Mynth. Mara checked her bucket as well, fully trusting 'Mack' but understanding his lesson. As they began feeding the little ones, Nayrith grew agitated; Angalyn was waking up and was confused and upset, and didn't hear her dragon.

Mara, with Klamath's kind permission – Mack would feed him, after all – jogged to their weyr. L'terick stood just inside the entrance, trying to calm the nearly hysterical girl. Mara passed him with a quick hand to his shoulder.

"It's all right, Angalyn." The girl was frantic, looking as if she would have run outside if only L'terick hadn't been in the way.

"Where's Nayrith?" she nearly screamed.

"Calm down and talk to her." Apparently their bond wasn't as strong as Mara had first thought. "She's being fed, and she's been bathed and oiled and covered with numbweed." Mara watched and listened as the girl followed her advice.

Angalyn relaxed considerably, and nearly fell back onto her cot. "I got scared when she wasn't here." Tears welled in her frightened eyes.

"Shhh." Mara sat next to her. "It's all right." She put an arm around Angalyn's shoulders and gently pulled her closer. "It's been a scary few days, hasn't it?"

Angalyn shook from trying to not cry, but couldn't stop her tears. "I don't know anyone here."

Mara smiled. "We'll fix that." She let loose of the girl's shoulders and put her hand to her own chest. "I'm Mara and Klamath is my little brown dragon." She motioned toward the relieved man in the entrance. "This is L'terick, rider of blue Quinteth, and one of Weyrlingmaster L'ret's assistants."

L'terick walked cautiously forward and offered a hand and a smile. "Welcome to Benden Weyr, Angalyn. I think you and Nayrith will be very happy here."

Angalyn just stared alternately at his hand and his face.

L'terick dropped his hand to his side but continued smiling. "Now that you're awake. . . Do you need to see a healer? No? Then you should get dressed so you can start your training here." When the girl still stared wide eyed, he addressed Mara. "I'll be right outside if you need anything."

"Thank you, L'terick." As he left, Mara helped Angalyn to her feet. She didn't fully understand the fear the girl was feeling, but reasoned that she might understand better after talking to L'ret about T'men's discoveries. "Let's see if we can find you some work clothes. I think you're just about the same size as Cally."

Mara led the dazed girl to the rider's weyr and pointed out the necessary. While Angalyn took care of personal needs, Mara found suitable clothing for this day's activities. As the girl dressed, Mara inspected her wounds and reminded her that any pain she felt would also be felt by Nayrith. After digesting that information, Angalyn asked Mara to apply more numbweed to her back and sides.

"As soon as our dragons go to sleep, we should go see the healers."

"I'm not a crying baby!"

"No, you're not. And neither am I, but we need to stay healthy and pain free for our dragons now. They feel everything we do, you know."

"You hurt too?"

"Mm Hm. I got hurt a couple of sevendays ago. But I feel better now."

"How'd you get hurt?"

Mara did not want to give this young girl any details, but certainly didn't want to give false information either. "I was attacked by some men who'd had too much ale and wine."

Angalyn turned around to face Mara, concern deeply etching her brow. When tears began again to fill her eyes, Mara opened her arms offering a hug. The girl didn't seem too sure how to respond, but was gently coaxed closer.

"It'll get better, Angalyn," said Mara as she rocked the girl. "People here are wonderful; most of them. And the dragons are even better. Everything will get better now you're at Benden Weyr."

"Is everything all right in there?" a slightly nervous male voice asked from the other side of the curtain. "The weyrlingmaster is asking after the two of you."

Angalyn tensed up at the first word from L'terick. As Mara pushed her away, hands gently holding her shoulders, the girl quickly wiped away her tears.

Mara mock scowled. "We better hurry." Then she addressed the curtain. "We just want to look our best, Blue Rider."

"May I enter?"

Mara looked the question to Angalyn. When the girl shrugged, Mara answered. "Of course. We're dressed now."

L'terick stepped through the curtain, pushing it aside to leave a generous opening. He studied the weyrlings and his mouth twisted in a most unusual way. "If you want to look your best, you might want to brush the sleep out of your hair."

The girls did a quick study of each other's heads. Mara sucked her lips in as her brows climbed her forehead. Angalyn almost smiled and definitely blushed.

Mara stood and took a brush from each of the chests of drawers along one wall, handing one to Angalyn. "I don't think Cally will mind." Mara ran her brush through her hair a few times, noticing Angalyn having trouble lifting her arms. "May I help?" Even that seemed to frighten the girl, but she did hand her brush to the big woman.

Mara gently brushed the curly dark hair, being careful of some matting near the scalp. "Hmm, this will be easier after a good soaking bath. But we need the Healers' permission first. If they don't want you to soak, I know where there's a sink specially designed for washing hair."

L'terick chuckled. "Andre will love those curls!"

Mara gave up after fluffing the outermost hair into a pleasing style. "Is that his real name?" she asked the blue rider as they all walked through the weyr.

"Nooo, he changed his name after spending some time 'researching' at Landing. It seems all the best hair stylists had strange names like that; at least according to Andre."

"Hmm. Maybe it wasn't such a strange name to the Ancients. What do you think Angalyn?"

Angalyn shrugged. She didn't know anything about the Ancients, or researching, or Landing. She just wanted to find Nayrith.

As they left the weyr, three little dragons were approaching, followed by a young girl and two men. One of the greens flanking the brown started running as fast as her lumpy belly would allow.

Angalyn took several hurried steps away from Mara and dropped to her knees to greet Nayrith. "Oh, Nayrith. You're so beautiful." Her arms wrapped around the little green who had risen to her haunches and wrapped her neck over small shoulders. The girl stroked the green's body. As she reached her belly, she remarked, "And fat!"

L'terick laughed and Mara smiled as the green's eyes whirled with pleasure and then closed as little dragon forelegs wrapped around the girl.

L'ret, followed by two little golds and their riders, smiled at what he saw. As he walked behind Cally, though, placing hands on her shoulders, he scowled, and bellowed, "Weyrlings!"

"Yes, sir!" said Cally and Mara in unison.

"Ah, you're up!" he added more gently to Angalyn.

The girl extricated herself from Nayrith and stood slowly, eyes wide but looking at his boots. "I'm sorry I kicked you, sir."

L'ret moved closer, leaned forward closer to her eye level, and nearly whispered. "I thought that was just a bad middle night dream. What say we start over?" When the girl managed to look at him, he winked and donned an almost friendly expression while extending his hand. "Welcome to Benden Weyr, Weyrling Angalyn."

Angalyn carefully put her hand in his. "Thank you, sir."

L'ret harrumphed and held her hand a bit more firmly. "I'll wager you're hungry." When Angalyn nodded slowly, he continued, "You let Mara and the girls show you where to bed down Nayrith and then you can all eat, all right?"

"Yes, sir."

L'ret patted her hand before freeing it, and stood with a much grouchier scowl. Most of the other weyrlings, without dragons, were closing in on the weyrlingmaster. He surveyed the crowd. "How many of you have done your morning lap?" Only a few hands went up. "Wonderful," he growled. As if speaking to himself, he said, "See if I ever sleep late again." And then he growled louder. "Anyone who hasn't done a lap will do so before midday meal. Those of you who did your lap will get some free time. Morning meal is ready, so . . . GO . . . before the food's all gone!"

The weyrlings started north, some running, all talking and/or laughing.

"RUN, you lazy . . ." L'ret smirked when all the weyrlings took off running.

He helped get the Istan dragons all headed toward the far end of the lake. Nayrith set the pace with considerable coaxing by the other dragons. Just a few more steps would get them closer to the warmth of the sun. When Nayrith could go no further, five little dragons circled in the sand and settled for their morning nap. Nayrith and Mynth flanked Klamath, and Biradeth and Saraneth lay in front of him. Five little snouts nearly met at the center of all.

Mack, as Mekelroy was now called even by L'ret, offered to stay with the little ones, declaring with a wink he was simply too tired to eat, so would rest until everyone else returned.

As five girls and three men began the trek north, L'ret turned to the gold rider weyrlings. "And how about you Ladies? Have you run your lap yet?"

Tianna answered for both, blushing slightly. "We reached the middle of the lake before Saraneth began stirring. So we ran as fast as we could manage straight back to the weyr."

L'ret nodded. "Good enough, and good thinking rising before your dragons. If you Ladies, and K'remin would be kind enough to give Angalyn company." He then spoke to the girl. "You need to walk carefully until the Healers clear you for full duty."

"Yes, sir."

L'ret nodded at her and turned to Cally. "Have you run your lap?"

Cally hopped and nearly giggled. "No, sir."

Growling, which caused no cessation of the giggling or hopping, L'ret gave his orders. "You and L'terick will _race_ to the dining hall. If you win, weyrling, you will earn free time before lunch. If you win, L'terick, you won't. Ready?" He waited while L'terick mumbled and then grinned a challenge to the girl. "GO!" And blue rider and green rider took off.

"Mara!"

"Yes, sir!"

"You will run and walk with me. Now." And the weyrlingmaster broke into a easy jog.

Mara frowned at Angalyn. "See you later," but then grinned before running north.

On their slow run, L'ret filled Mara in on what T'men had learned from Ista's Hold Harper. Angalyn had lived with her parents in a small fishing village until her dam died of a fever nearly two turns ago. Her sire then dressed her as a boy, for her protection, and signed both of them onto a trading vessel, where the child was bullied for being such a 'girly boy'. The sire, when questioned at one point by the Harper who had seen through the disguise, believed that the bullying was far better than what he was convinced would happen to a girl. The sire also told the Harper that it would do no harm for the girl to toughen up.

When Mara asked how Angalyn had come to be at the hatching, L'ret chuckled. Apparently, the ship had docked at a nearby village and some riders from Ista, desperate to find suitable candidates for Caylith's clutch, convinced the captain and most of the younger crew that this might be their only chance to ever see a dragon hatching. Several of the crew impressed that day to the captain's dismay, not just Angalyn.

As they drew closer to the dining hall, L'ret gave her his last bit of news. After the girl impressed Nayrith, the sire just disappeared; even the captain didn't know where he had gone, having said only he needed to find the necessary.

Mara was silent the remaining dragon length, digesting what L'ret had just told her, but began smiling as they came close enough to hear the blue rider and the green rider arguing amiably about who won their race.

After a silence demanding bellow from L'ret, L'terick faced him squarely. "She only won because I tripped, Weyrlingmaster."

"But he did trip, so I won!" declared Cally.

"Good job, Weyrling! One must seize opportunity when it arises, or falls in this case."

Cally bounced as L'terick slumped wearing a half smile. Heavy footsteps caused L'ret and Mara to turn around. Angalyn, smiling somewhat, rode 'dragonback' on K'remin as Tianna and Brendeen jogged to either side.

"What's this?" L'ret growled.

The bronze rider cocked his head to one side. "We're hungry, sir."

"I got tired, sir," said Angalyn apologetically.

K'remin grumbled at the girl and spoke to L'ret. "I didn't want to miss out on those sweet rolls we could smell all the way down there."

Angalyn giggled just a bit before saying, "Let me down, please."

K'remin grumbled some more as he lowered to one knee. Angalyn was assisted by Brendeen, who told her, "You should always thank a dragon who's given you a ride."

Angalyn nodded her head at K'remin. "Thank you, sir, for a fine swift ride."

"My pleasure, little L. . . Weyrling." K'remin stood and offered a hand to the girl. "Let's eat!"

Angalyn shied away from his hand, but still managed to smile at him.

Undaunted, K'remin offered an arm to each of the gold riders. "Ladies?"

Angalyn was carefully passed off to Mara as both gold riders accepted the bronze rider's escort to the head table. L'ret followed them in, but headed for the long tables laid out with breakfast, talking to Cally about what she would do with her free time. L'terick followed Mara and Angalyn.

All the weyrlings ate well, but Angalyn ate as if she hadn't for several sevendays. She expressed a bit of guilt until Mara challenged her to an eating duel. Angalyn refused, but didn't feel bad about taking second portions of meat and fruit.

The meal completed, L'ret told Mara to arrange for clothing for the new weyrling and suggested they stop by the Healer's cavern on the way back to the weyrling barracks. Classes would begin as the sun reached the Weyr bowl floor and they were to try to be there on time. Cally offered to help and as the three weyrlings left by the back way, Tianna and Brendeen joined them.

With all the 'Istan' weyrlings together, L'ret sent K'remin as escort with a firm admonishment. "Do not spoil them, K'remin! They are weyrlings first!"

Angalyn was supplied with a full carisak of 'standard weyrling issue' and another of what Manora called 'standard Weyr Lady issue'. The gold riders and Cally had fun helping select the second set of clothing much to Angalyn's amusement. Mara stood out of the way with K'remin, watching and shaking her head, but thrilled that Angalyn was enjoying herself.

Tianna and Brendeen each slung a carisak over their shoulders with Cally lightening the load by lifting on the straps at the other end of each bag. Mara kept hold of Angalyn's hand to gauge her fatigue level while K'remin followed the weyrlings to the Healer's cavern.

Journeywoman Loralin led Angalyn and Mara into one of the small rooms. Cally joined them with Angalyn's permission. Tarminas surprised Mara again by being kind and talkative with his young patient, and even showing Cally how to help change dressings on her back. The gashes, he explained, were draining quite nicely, but the dressings should be changed every few candle-marks, or hours.

As Master Tarminas explained what the girls should look for and why, Loralin pulled Mara into another room. She examined the cut on the weyrling's hand and declared it healed enough to be left un-bandaged, though gloves were highly recommended for any work that might damage the still weak scar tissue. The women then discussed the aches and pains Mara was still feeling in her hips and one shoulder. Loralin gave her an herb mixture to be mixed with any liquid and showed her how much to take twice a day. Mara drank down the first dose and complimented Loralin on the taste. The Healer then suggested she would request Master Oldive send someone to do more chiropractic work on Mara's joints.

Having finished with Benden's newest weyrling, Tarminas joined Loralin and Mara, after knocking on the door for permission to enter. "And how is our lady brown rider this fine day?"

"I'm fine, sir. Thank you," Mara responded warily.

"Do you disapprove of my newly acquired patient interaction skills?"

"Oh, no, Master Tarminas. I'm sorry, sir. I'm just a little surprised."

"Well, one is never too old to learn new tricks of one's craft."

"That's good to know, sir."

Loralin, after a slight cough to cover a giggle, explained to Tarminas what they had discussed so far, and her prescription and suggestions.

Tarminas nodded and asked very kind questions of both women. When Loralin finished, he said, "I've found a journeywoman at Landing who is looking into why you and others might be having trouble with fellis. It seems several people in her immediate family have also had bad reactions. She believes this intolerance to be hereditary and linked to some specific compound in fellis. She's also interviewing patients with fellis intolerance, but I told her you would be quite busy with training for some time. Perhaps in a few months, when your schedule has settled a bit, she will come to Benden Weyr to speak with you."

"That's wonderful!"

"You should start a list of anything else that gives you problems. For instance, foods you no longer eat because they cause," he shrugged his shoulders, "indigestion, or rashes, or any other problems. Some people cannot touch certain plants, or animals, or metals. This journeywoman is cross referencing chemical compounds of each offensive item to help determine just which chemical or chemicals each person might be sensitive to."

"I'll start a list."

"I'm also keeping my ears open for any new pain relievers Landing might develop. The problem right now is finding acceptable substitutes for ingredients the Ancients used." He bowed his head slightly to Loralin. "And I'll write a note now to Master Oldive requesting a chiropractor to visit Benden Weyr."

"Thank you, Master Tarminas."

"My pleasure, Weyrling Mara. If you'll excuse me?"

When the Master Healer had left the room and could be heard walking down the hallway, Mara turned to Loralin. "What happened?"

Loralin grinned. "It was explained to him, by several people, how beneficial good patient relations can be to a _successful_ healing practice. And he is actually seeing some of those benefits."

The pretty Healer's blush told Mara far more than she needed to know about the benefits Tarminas was reaping. Her jaw dropped and eyes went wide.

Loralin laughed as her blush burned even deeper. "He's really a very sweet man! He's just all consumed in his Craft. So . . . we . . . practice healing each other."

After some shared laughter, Mara congratulated Loralin, stating that both Healers looked far happier than a couple of sevendays ago.

As the two women walked down the short passageway to the main cavern, they slowed when they heard K'remin relating a story of his weyrling days, specifically the first time he flew with Emreth. All four girls in his company laughed at his humorous tale of flopping like a rag doll on his dragon's back.

"And after three days being confined to my cot," K'remin rubbed his lower back and his chest simultaneously, "not that I minded one bit, I started listening far more carefully to those pompous old fools who apparently did know a lot more about dragon-riding than I did."

Loralin and Mara entered the larger cavern as an older weyrling ran in from the main entrance. He asked for Master Tarminas, who suddenly appeared from behind a curtain shielding another patient.

Tarminas was smiling as he took the small slip of paper. "What's this lad?" He opened the note, read it and closed his eyes as his smile melted. "Message received and understood, young man. Thank you."

He then turned to the now gathered weyrlings and K'remin, his smile now forced. "You weyrlings had better return to your training. We need to prepare for Thread Fall this afternoon."

Mara, Angalyn and Cally each thanked him and Loralin for their help before leaving.

Loralin reached out to steady his now shaky arm. "What is it, Master?" When he handed it to her, she opened it and read:

Weather this morning indicates likely onset of numerous funnel clouds in Fall area this afternoon. F'lar.

* * *

Thanks to all who are reviewing! All comments are greatly appreciated.

I'm sorry, I'm not answering them all. It requires time and a proper mood (hope you understand).

There will be a little more excitement next chapter. Hope you'll enjoy!


	11. New Weyrlings First Threadfall  Part I

Angalyn grew too tired to walk again just a short distance from the Healer's Cavern. Cally explained to Mara that Tarminas had given her just one drop of fellis juice in redfruit juice to help her sleep again.

Mara walked alongside K'remin as he carried the girl 'dragonback' again, this being the best way to avoid aggravating her wounded back. Angalyn began nodding off to sleep even as she tried to respond to Mara's reassurances that she and Nayrith were safe here at Benden Weyr, and all Angalyn had to do was reach out to feel Nayrith.

The girl smiled as her eyelids dropped for the last time. She was feeling Nayrith even as they walked.

Mara kept talking to the girl in the event she wasn't totally unconscious yet. She reminded her that someone would be in the weyr just to make sure she was sleeping peacefully, and that when Angalyn woke up that person would take her to meet up with the rest of the weyrlings. When she was sure the girl slept soundly, Mara merely walked silently with a hand pressed lightly against an undamaged part of her back, listening to the other girls' quiet chatter.

There were no weyrlings in the bowl, so the gold riders worried a bit about being late to class. K'remin assured them he would vouch for the necessity of their absence. Mara witnessed a meaningful glance between the gold weyrlings, and quickly realized, with the aid of her enhanced 'hearing', that they had purposefully set K'remin up to act as their protector.

Mack and Bista waited in the girls' weyr, sitting at – or on, in Bista's case – the small table. The Harper played a pleasant, but melancholy tune on his tin whistle, and Bista chirped and crooned along. Once Angalyn was settled in her cot, he offered to stay with her.

Mara worried about the Harper needing rest, but Mack informed her that Bista was well trained to wake him if anyone should approach.

That settled, K'remin, the Istan weyrlings, and Teanna went to the weyrling barracks. All the weyrlings, newly impressed to almost ready to graduate, crowded into the largest of the classrooms.

L'ret was drawing long lines ending in swirls on the front board. With new arrivals, he turned around. "Ah, Ladies, how nice of you to join us." One twitching cheek might have been a wink, but his sarcasm caused more than one weyrling to chuckle. "We've just had an introduction to fellis." He pointed to the gold riders. "Have you Ladies had that pleasure?"

Teanna, trying not to smile, answered. "Yes, Weyrlingmaster, we've been introduced to fellis and its effects on dragons."

Brendeen continued. "And we've both stressed to our dragons that they are not to take food or drink from anyone but us."

"Very good!" crooned the weyrlingmaster, eliciting more chuckles. "Have a seat, Ladies." He looked pointedly to a group of older bronze weyrlings, who quickly took his message; four stood and motioned for the new arrivals to have a seat. "We were just about to discuss today's unfortunate, but increasingly common weather patterns."

Mara was rather embarrassed to have a bronze rider relinquish a seat to her, but was pleased that none of the four harbored any ill feelings about being 'asked' to do so. She smiled and nodded a 'thank you' to each of the young men, who quite graciously moved to stand near the door.

As L'ret explained today's problematic weather, Mara couldn't help but notice the different levels of concentration exhibited by the different weyrlings. The youngest were interested, but seemed lost. Those who had heard this discussion before seemed bored and had trouble concentrating, except for those who were now flying firestone duty. They paid very close attention, probably because they had experienced similar weather and knew how dangerous it could be. The flying weyrlings were also very patient when newer weyrlings asked questions, and willingly offered their interpretations and experiences, as did each of the weyrlingmaster's assistants.

Today's weather patterns, as discerned by early morning sweep riders, indicated the probability of a highly unstable confluence of winds, which had been known to cause multiple funnel currents even in cloudless skies. These funnel currents would hardly even be noticed until Thread was caught in the spiraling winds and pulled horizontally from all directions. Multiple funnel currents meant astronomically higher opportunity for error on any rider's part.

Discussion of the weather basics complete, flying weyrlings were sent to another classroom for further discussion of tactics required for today's Fall.

After the door closed, L'ret informed the remaining weyrlings that such weather also meant an increase in injuries. As a result, today's lessons would deal with first response to dragon and rider injuries. Quite a few of the non-flying weyrlings may very well be pulled into service by Healers this day. Though, he reminded older weyrlings, if their dragons had any trouble dealing with the work they were doing, the riders would be expected to return to movement drills or firestone duty. No one was to push their dragon to do what they were uncomfortable doing. The dragons would eventually understand the necessity of helping the Healers, and would learn to deal with the emotions and the situations. Or not, he added. Not all dragons, like not all humans, could function properly around the injured. There was no shame in that situation! Not everyone could be a Healer, or a Harper, or a cook.

His message understood, L'ret turned the class over to one of the dragon healers. He roamed the room as the man discussed common injuries and treatments using the painted dragon on the board as reference. He, and some assistants, watched for youngsters in distress over what the Healer was describing; there were always some who would never be able to deal with injuries, but there were also some who simply worried they weren't learning quick enough. It was always understood by the healers that if the weyrlingmaster or any of his assistants gave them the slashing hand across the throat signal, they were to go no further with gory detail. The weyrlingmaster would find a reason to excuse the truly ill weyrlings so the healers would be free to continue preparing the remaining weyrlings for the realities of Thread score and other injuries.

As L'ret passed by Mara, he suddenly remembered he had another opportunity. He sat next to the big woman and questioned her telepathically.

Mara was quickly able to tell him which weyrlings were bothered by the healers' verbal pictures, and which were devising ways to escape what they considered demeaning dragonrider duties.

After the dragon healer, Master Healer Tarminas gave a brief lecture on common rider injuries and treatments with which weyrlings were likely to be asked for assistance. He explained that numbweed application was the most common task set to weyrlings, apart from running for supplies, and that numbweed could not be over-applied, though frugality might sometimes be necessary. He told them they would never, _never_ be permitted to administer anything other than numbweed without extensive training, but might be asked to run a mug of liquid to a particular rider; it was very important to take any medication to the designated rider and no other.

Master Tarminas then began describing some of the more stressful situations weyrlings might be asked to help with. Big, strong weyrlings might be asked to hold someone down when a painful procedure had to be done quickly. Other weyrlings might be asked to simply calm riders, perhaps even hold hands or stroke a face to keep the rider distracted. And then he broached the most difficult situation anyone might be asked to deal with. Weyrlings, especially during high injury Falls, like todays might be, might be asked to sit with someone who had just lost their dragon. He told them to _listen_ to the rider with compassion, not judgment, and to watch them and be prepared to yell for assistance. No rider should be allowed to suicide without having time to consider his or her options. And all riders handled such a tragic loss differently; some with anger and more with tears.

At this point, L'ret divided the class again because some of the newer weyrlings were almost in tears. Newer weyrlings were directed outside to begin movement training. A few of the older weyrlings – those who still had trouble with helping the injured – were ordered to assist.

The weyrlings were lined up in ranks by height. Shorter weyrlings in the front held their arms out to determine spacing and taller weyrlings lined up behind them. It was explained that these drills would be performed with their dragons later. All dragons and riders needed to know how to move as a group and these drills were the beginning of learning flight maneuvers.

First lessons were quite simple; turn left, check your spacing. Of course, when taller people spread their arms, hands overlapped. That was fine, declared L'ret, as long as everyone maintained the same spacing they began with. They turned left again and checked their spacing again.

When one of the young blue riders asked why spacing was based on the shortest arms, L'ret pushed him to state his true concern. The weyrling said that if arms could be compared to dragon wings, then perhaps spacing should be based on bronze wings rather than green wings. L'ret congratulated him on thinking like a dragonrider and declared that he had earned some free time prior to midday meal. Spacing was then rearranged based on the tallest weyrling's arms. And they turned again, checked their spacing, turned again, and checked their spacing several more times.

Next was introduced the concept of moving as a unit; they marched forward, stopped, checked their spacing, turned around, marched forward, stopped, checked their spacing. After several trips up and down the eastern edge of the bowl, turning in motion as a group was introduced. They marched forward, all turned left, marched some more, stopped, checked their spacing, marched forward, all turned right, marched some more, stopped, checked their spacing. Laughter broke out more than once as some had trouble discerning left from right, until L'ret reminded them that dragons turning the wrong way could suffer permanent wing damage, or worse in a collision. L'ret and his assistants made mental note of those needing extra practice.

These simple movement drills continued until half an hour – according to the time piece kept in L'ret's belt pouch – before midday meal. Those needing more work with left and right were pulled out of the group and sent with one assistant. L'ret called an end to the classes inside the barracks. Any weyrlings who had completed their morning laps earlier, and one observant blue rider, were given free time, and the remainder of the weyrlings were sent to running around the bowl, with assistants keeping an eye on all.

Cally, Teanna, and Brendeen walked to the green and brown weyrling's weyr, but stopped when Bista craned her neck at them from her perch on Mack's shoulder. Brendeen convinced the little gold that they were leaving, so that Mack could continue his well-earned rest, head leaned back against the rock wall. In place of seeing Cally's weyr, the girls chose to find a spot near their dragons to chat about what they were experiencing.

Mara began her lap, conscious of laughter at her awkwardness, but determined to work up to running the entire distance. Until she reached that goal, though, she would follow L'ret's advice and take it slow, walking when necessary, running when she could; she certainly did not want to risk injury. As she ran and walked, she 'listened' to the dragons preparing for Fall later, she 'listened' to loud thoughts – a few she would mention to L'ret or Lessa if she asked – and particularly 'listened' for anything from Angalyn, Nayrith, and most especially Klamath.

She finished her lap just as L'ret announced that lunch was ready, so turned back north. The other Istan weyrlings, and Teanna, joined her just as L'ret yelled "Run, you lazy . . ."

"You all go ahead. I need to walk a bit more." Mara grinned at Cally. "If they have any bubbly pies, will you save one for me?"

Cally was ready to run ahead, having forgotten the 'stick together' rule in favor of bubbly pies, but Brendeen and Teanna hesitated to leave Mara until L'ret joined them.

"Mara, walk with me. You weyrlings, run along." He wriggled his fingers at the gold riders.

As the girls jogged toward the dining cavern, Mara and L'ret discussed the weyrlings reactions to training this morning. Mara listed those she thought were having trouble, and the reasons she was able to pick up, and she listed those who were planning to use anything they could find to avoid further work. Several already intended to watch for suggestions that might earn them free time.

L'ret chuckled at that; Mara's interpretation of those riders' motivation indicated that she didn't quite see the intent of his leadership potential tests. That's all right, he decided; her concentration was focused elsewhere right now, but he was sure she would come around.

Lunch was an invigorating affair, with the subdued excitement of looming Threadfall. Feelings were mixed in light of weather conditions.

As they finished their meals, several weyrlings were selected to assist the kitchen staff in preparing travel rations. A few were sent to the Healers' cavern and all others were directed to the firestone storage cavern.

Plenty of firestone had already been bagged, enough for two full Falls. Weyrlings would now move the bags out to the bowl for easier access by riders. Three lines were set up. The least fit weyrlings would be given a bag or two to carry outside to one stack. More fit weyrlings were placed in a fairly close spaced line through which they would toss the bags to each other toward another stack. And the most fit weyrlings were spaced further apart to toss bags to a third stack much farther from the entrance.

The newest weyrlings were all placed in the first line which soon became two lines as firestone laden youngsters walked back out of the cavern. Mara fell in line with the others, listening to the excited talking. When she actually entered the cavern, and saw the three full riders who were feeding the lines, she almost panicked. _L'ret?_

_Not right now._

Shards, she thought. G'raden was feeding the carry line she was in. He smiled and grinned and talked to each weyrling as he handed them one or two bags of firestone, making sure they weren't overtaxing themselves or risking injury with their method of handling the heavy bags. He smiled and grinned and talked and even winked at a few, and he looked so good and happy and handsome. _L'ret? Sir?_

_Not now!_

Shards! She could do this. Klamath was sleeping and this was work after all, not pleasure. She would keep her mind on the task she was expected to perform and not look at his handsome, grinning, winking face. Shards, shards, and more shards! No, she could do this! She would walk up and take those bags from his big, strong, gentle hands. Ah, shards. She wouldn't look at his face, she wouldn't look at his hands, she would concentrate on the bags. _L'ret?_

_Later, Mara!_

"One or two, weyrling?"

She looked up into his beautifully expressive, concerned eyes. "Uh, two."

"Get a good grip." He almost smiled.

Mara looked down at the two bags he handed her direction, his big, strong hands grasping the drawstring tops. She grabbed the bags far below his hands. "Why aren't you flying, sir?"

He let loose of the bags, letting them drop into hers, and pointed at his temple. "They're assessing my fitness," and almost grinned.

His eyes sparkled with humor even as his brow furrowed in concern and his full lips twitched trying to stay level. "Shards!" said Mara as she turned away, eyes clenched shut and walked toward the bowl, following the chatter of those in front of her. A deep rumble of not quite suppressed laughter caused her jaw to clench as a tear escaped one eye. She felt the sun on her face at the same time a hand clasped her shoulder.

"Mara?"

"What!" snapped out before she opened her eyes and saw her weyrlingmaster. "Sir?" she added apologetically.

L'ret looked deeper into the cavern. "Scorch it! I'm sorry, Mara." Then he turned to walk beside her.

"I'm going to have to get used to it, sir."

"Sharding right!" But not all at once. She had enough to get used to right now. L'ret scolded himself for not checking the cavern earlier. He shouldn't be giving her any special treatment, but, flame it, she didn't deserve this. "You all right?"

"Yes, sir. I'm fine." A quaver in her voice said otherwise, so she lifted her chin and glared at the weyrlingmaster as they walked.

"Good." L'ret stood aside and watched as she effortlessly swung first one and then the other bag to the top of the already growing stack. "Come with me." He led her to the back side of the second line, just behind a weyrling he wanted to move to the third line. "Watch the rhythm. When I give the word, you step in as T'mer steps back." He waited for just the right moment. As T'mer tossed his bag to the next weyrling, he said, "Now." T'mer stepped away in the direction of his toss, and Mara took his place in time to catch the next one, turn and toss it to the next weyrling. He watched for a bit to make sure she had caught on, and then took T'mer to the next line.

Mara quickly forgot her distress over unexpectedly seeing her one-time, short-time, and hopefully future weyrmate. She gratefully concentrated on the rhythm of tossing bagged firestone, enjoying the ability to use the muscles she had for their intended purpose, moving things. As the rhythm became automatic, she began listening to the friendly banter of the other weyrlings. She turned for the next bag and noticed too late that it was on the wrong trajectory. She managed to lift her foot off the ground just before the heavy bag slammed into the side of her knee. The momentum of the bag slowed, she dropped her foot back to the ground to avoid losing her balance.

"Oops. Lost my grip," said young B'rand as he turned to catch another bag.

Mara grabbed the bag in one hand and after turning her head to check the readiness of the next weyrling, swung it at him on the proper trajectory. She then turned quickly back toward B'rand. "If you're tired, you need to step out of the line."

"I'm not tired," _you ugly pack beast, _"I just lost my grip," he hissed as he slammed another bag at her belly. "Sorry."

Mara simply smiled at the young bronze rider as he put more and more force into each tossed bag, until the bags stopped. She 'listened' to him curse like a dock worker even as he looked curiously and innocently toward the head of the line.

As the last bag was swung to the top of the stack, L'ret bellowed from right behind Mara. "Turn around. Use the muscles on your other side." Before the first bag made it down the line, L'ret moved B'rand to the far end and ordered Mara to the healers.

"I'm fine, sir." A bit of her irritation seeped into her simple declaration.

"You're bleeding, weyrling. Healers. Now!"

After glancing at the blood soaking the side of her trousers, she bowed her head humbly. "Yes, sir." And she walked away from the line, 'hearing' B'rand's victorious, though silent, cheers.

_Was this intentional?_ asked L'ret.

_Yes, sir,_ Mara stopped herself. _I'm not sure the first slip was intentional, sir, but he did try – unsuccessfully - to wear me down afterwards._

_I see. Take care of that leg and come back. We've got lots more to move._

_Yes, sir._

Several chunks of firestone had cut shallow gashes in Mara's meaty leg on their way to the ground. The healers cleaned the wounds, covered them with numbweed, bandaged them, and let her return to her duties.

When more than half the storage cavern had been moved, and just as the Wings began loading up for their first attack, little dragons stirred by the excitement began waking. A few, the four three day olds and a couple of the older dragons, were hungry, so were fed a lighter than normal meal; the excitement would keep them from sleeping, and too full bellies would make the movement drills uncomfortable.

The newest weyrlings and their dragons were readied for the same drills done by riders alone earlier. Flying weyrlings were split into two groups; one would resupply the Wings with firestone when requested, and the other would throw bags up in the air to hovering suppliers. After an hour, by L'ret's timepiece, the two groups would switch. Older, non-flying weyrlings were separated into groups as well; some would stand ready with the healers, some were sent to other areas to help, and some would throw firestone to the grounded group of flying weyrlings.

Movement drills would have been entertaining to watch at any other time, and a few off duty riders did just that from their weyrs high above the floor of the bowl. Young dragons had trouble concentrating on any one thing for more than a moment or two. All the excitement from the fighting dragons caused constant questions which also served to distract their riders. Considering their age, L'ret's assistants considered it a true accomplishment to simply get them all moving in the same direction at the same time.

When casualties began coming in, the little ones had even more trouble concentrating, concern for their older brothers and sisters overshadowing any desire to work or play as a group. The dragons of the weyrlingmaster's assistants and some off duty riders had their paws full trying to keep weyrlings and their dragons calm and focused on their movements. Older, experienced riders also had their hands full reminding certain weyrlings that anger would not help their dragons to learn concentration; patience was required at this stage, and the elders worked patiently to teach the weyrlings how to manage their increasingly confused little lifemates.

Klamath was one of the few little dragons who tried to concentrate on the commands given the marching group. Like the other few, Mara would learn later, he had been told that the best way they could help fight Thread right now was to learn as much as possible about how to move as a group. Later they could put that learning to use to effectively fight Thread like the big dragons.

His eyes whirled orange as he tried to ignore the screams of dragons returning with Threadscore. He would look up at Mara and listen to her calming reassurance that they were doing all they could do and he would follow her through the movements they were supposed to be learning. He would look at the man yelling orders and try to hear his words above the cacophonous noise of a very bad Fall.

_Nayrith is scared, and her rider is scared too._

_Where are they, my love?_

_Quinteth and his rider and Mack are with them, but Nayrith's rider is scared of the men._

_Should we go help them, sweet heart?_ Mara located the subject dragons and their riders. L'terick seemed desperate as he tried to calm Angalyn near the weyr. Mack talked to the girl too, but didn't seem to be having any calming effect.

_We need to learn these movements._ Klamath sounded so uncertain.

_Master Mack? Do you need help?_

Humorous desperation came with his thoughts. _I'm afraid we do. Neither of them understands what's happening and neither of them is listening to either of us._

_We're on our way._ Mara addressed her little brown next. _We have time to learn movements later. Let's see if we can keep Nayrith and her rider from hurting themselves._

As the weyrling group got close to Mara's weyr, she and Klamath dropped out of the formation and continued to where Angalyn was huddled up to Nayrith, screaming for everyone to get away from them. Nayrith's eyes whirled angry red and anxious orange with considerable worried yellow.

"It's all right, Angalyn." Mara had to raise her voice considerably to be heard over the echoing noise reverberating throughout the bowl. "Angalyn? It's all right." The girl finally heard her and ran into her arms.

"What's happening?"

"Sshhh. Calm down, and sit down, and we'll talk about what's happening, all right? Nayrith needs you to be calm so we can all talk about this." Mara managed to sit against the wall of the bowl, Angalyn huddled next to her with an arm wrapped protectively around Nayrith, and Klamath on her other side, neck stretched over her lap and Angalyn's to let Nayrith wrap her neck over his.

"Now, what's happening is that the Wings are fighting Thread today. I'm sorry you didn't get much preparation for this Angalyn and Nayrith. Most of our class is working on movement drills down there, see?"

Angalyn calmed enough to look for the other weyrlings.

"Our dragons were born to fight Thread, so they want to help in any way they can, isn't that right Nayrith?"

Nayrith looked up at Mara and nuzzled her rider's face. Her eyes were losing some of their red swirls.

"But you're too little to fight Thread yet." Mara stroked the green's head and then Klamath's neck. She spoke to the dragons. "You can't even fly yet. Or make flame. And none of us knows how to fly in formation, yet. Do we, Angalyn?"

"Not yet." She was calming down enough to share thoughts with Nayrith. "But why are they screaming like that?"

"Threadscore hurts, even after they go _between_ to kill the Thread. But watch how fast numbweed helps." Mara pointed to a green just landing, head flaying as she screamed in pain. Healers, weyrlings, off duty riders, and lower cavern people converged on the green and in a matter of moments, the rider was down being treated and the dragon was being slathered with numbweed. Within a few more moments, the green's screaming turned to a half-hearted moan, more for her rider than for herself.

"Numbweed works fast," said the girl.

"Mm hmm. And someday, when Klamath and Nayrith are comfortable with a little separation, you and I can help treat Threadscore. Until then, all we can do is keep them calm, and explain what is happening, and learn as much as possible."

Just then the dragons started a mournful keen. Klamath and Nayrith raised their heads to add their voices to the dirge.

"What's happening?" Angalyn's distress resurfaced.

Mara pulled her close and rocked. She fought tears as she tried to sound calm. "A dragon has gone _between_ and won't be coming back."

"Why?" wailed the girl.

"He took too much Thread. He would have died."

The girl's moan threatened to grow into another full blown scream.

Mara rocked her and held her tighter. "Sshhh, Angalyn. It happens sometimes. Look around, though, Angalyn. Everyone's still working. Look, Angalyn. The healers are still treating dragons and riders. People are still moving firestone. Weyrlings are still keeping their little dragons occupied. And look; dragons are going back to flame more Thread."

"But, why? It's too dangerous!"

"Yes, it's dangerous. But someone has to flame the Thread before it gets to ground. If we didn't, Thread would eat our crops, and our trees, and our beasts, and even people."

"I don't want to fight Thread."

"Sshhh. I don't either. But it's the job we were chosen for. And look at the benefits, Angalyn."

"What benefits?" Angalyn pushed away from the big dimglow.

Mara smiled. "She's lying across your lap! How many people on Pern have their very own dragons? How many people know what it's like to be loved so much? How many people have someone so special to share the rest of their lives with? Huh?"

Klamath stretched his neck to lick Mara's cheek, and then playfully nuzzled Angalyn's belly. Nayrith, not to be outdone, stretched her neck over Klamath's and licked her rider's face, right across her nose. The little green tried again, and this time licked tears off one cheek, and then the other. By the time she was done, Angalyn was smiling.

The girl looked up at the woman. "Is it worth it though?"

"Ha!" Oh, what a silly question, thought Mara. But, then, this girl hadn't expected to impress a dragon, and hadn't had very good experiences since impressing Nayrith. "You give it a few more days, Angalyn. Give Benden Weyr a chance. It's so much better here than at Ista Weyr. You'll see. You give it a few more days, and then I dare you to ask me that question again!"

The confidence in Mara's dare affected more calm than Angalyn had felt since before her dam had died. She let out a short laugh at the comparison; this big woman was _nothing_ like her mother, but she seemed to be so happy even despite the possibility of dying in Threadfall – that thought caused a big shiver. And then Angalyn decided to take this woman's challenge. She would give it a few more days, and she would give Benden Weyr a chance to prove it was better than Ista Weyr. The silly looking woman just kept smiling! Even with tears flowing, she kept smiling! Angalyn laughed at the silly woman and then began asking questions about what was going on around them.

* * *

More excitement in the next chapter.

It's a chilly rainy day here in Middle of Nowhere, Wyoming; I had a choice of doing housework or writing. Can you guess which I chose?

Reviews are always greatly appreciated! Thanks for all of them, and for future ones. ;)


	12. New Weyrlings First Threadfall Part II

So, thought Mara, Angalyn responds to challenge. That's good to know! But she thinks I look silly? Well, at least she hasn't compared me to any sort of beast.

Mara did her best to answer Angalyn's questions, describing various scenes and explaining to the best of her limited ability what was happening and why.

When even Nayrith looked around in less fearful interest, Mara asked if they would like to join the other weyrlings in their class, learning the first steps to flying in formation. Nayrith gave Angalyn such a look of desperation, the girl laughed, and agreed it was time to start learning to be a dragonrider.

As Mara prepared to stand, she noticed for the first time, Mack sitting on the other side of Klamath, the brown's tail wrapped over his lap and around his waist. Bista curled tightly around the Harper's neck, eyes whirling anxious, worried yellow-orange. Mack was pale and seemed to be in a daze.

_Are you all right Master Mack?_

_It's all so overwhelming._ He never moved, except his eyes.

_Haven't you ever been in a Weyr during Threadfall?_

_Never._

Mara worried about the man; he still didn't move even as she stood. _You do get used to it, Master._

Now Mekelroy shook his head slowly. _No. I don't think I will._

As Mara led Angalyn toward the other weyrlings, she turned back to see the Harper standing up slowly. _Are you all right, Master?_

He offered a partial smile. _I'll be fine, Mara. You go about your duties._ Bista trilled a cheerful addendum as her eyes lost their distressing colors, moving closer to green slightly shot with blue as Master Mekelroy took a step away from the weyrling barracks.

Mara, having the feeling that something had just shifted, returned his smile before turning again toward the marching weyrlings. _Yes, Master._

The two weyrlings stood against the wall, little dragons leaning against their legs for needed contact, and watched the maneuvers the other weyrlings were performing. The dragonets, Mara noticed, seemed to be adjusting to the noise level and the nearly constant screaming of injured dragons coming in from the Fall; they were paying more attention to L'ret's assistant as he shouted orders to march forward, turn, march and stop. Their attention span still wasn't phenomenal, but they seemed to be tuning out the other confusion surrounding them. Some of the little ones even looked ready to go back to sleep: not surprising since their naps had been interrupted.

As a little dragon grew too tired to move on, another assistant would lead him or her and their rider into the weyrling barracks. There, the dragon could finish his or her nap with the rider nearby in the event something woke them. Staying physically close at a difficult time like this when a bond was so new, Mara remembered from her reading, was extremely important to the development of the empathic bond and the relationship of trust needed to be successful and happy dragon/rider pairs.

_Would you like to try movement drills again, Klamath? _Mara scratched his neck just behind his jaw.

_We need to learn movement drills before we can learn to fly formations to flame Thread._

_That's right, sweet heart._ The big woman felt a lump of pride as she heard and felt her little brown shift from fear to resolute determination.

_Let's learn movement drills, Mara._

As Mara smiled down at her brave little brown dragon, Angalyn tugged on her arm.

"Can we try it now?" asked the girl as her little green turned pleading eyes up to Mara.

Mara nodded and they all turned back to watch the group. "There are some openings in the last row. See them? When they come this way, we'll sneak into those spots, all right?"

Angalyn actually grinned as she bit her lower lip in excited anticipation. "Here they come."

The weyrlings passed so close, Mara was sure the assistant in charge had been watching them prepare. "Ready?" asked Mara as the last row was about to pass.

"Let's go!" said Angalyn as she and Nayrith bounded to a free space, Mara and Klamath close behind.

The newest weyrlings didn't last too long, Nayrith having suffered such fierce anxiety with and for her rider, not just today, but since impression. They made it through each of the basic movements though, even maintaining their spacing fairly respectably before little Nayrith simply dropped to her haunches, totally exhausted. Angalyn, understanding completely what her little one was feeling, knelt and hugged her, dragon tail held protectively close, while the rest of the group swerved to miss them.

_Nayrith is tired and her rider can't lift her,_ said Klamath with some concern as they marched.

_Should we help them?_

_Movement drills are easy. Let's help Nayrith._

_Keep going, or we'll get run over._

When the group turned, Mara and Klamath moved off to the side and backtracked to their new friends. L'terick was approaching cautiously, but when he saw Mara, he half bowed and motioned for her to take care of the tired pair. He stayed close though, to make sure all four got the support they needed.

"Is she tired?" Mara asked.

Angalyn tried to smile. "She's too tired to walk and I'm too tired to carry her."

"I can carry her if you and Klamath don't mind." Mara immediately felt a touch of anxiety from Klamath.

"May I help?" asked L'terick as he came closer.

Angalyn studied the blue rider for just a moment, looked at Mara quickly and then answered. "Please, sir."

L'terick lifted the tiny green easily, cooing sweet nothings as he stood. When she struggled just a bit, he spoke in the same tone to her rider. "She'll be more comfortable if you keep a hand on her. Isn't that right sweetums?" He kept up the monologue all the way to their weyr.

_We should go with them,_ said Klamath. He sounded pretty worn out himself.

_All right, my sweet little brown. We'll keep them company._

_They won't be scared if we stay with them._

L'terick stepped easily onto the slightly raised dragon couch and carefully lowered Nayrith onto the dried grain stalks nearest Angalyn's cot. Mara noticed considerably more grain stalks than earlier and wondered who had been so thoughtful and considerate. Klamath climbed onto the couch and settled next to Nayrith, the picture of protective draconic masculinity, with one wing spread over her and his tail wrapped around her. As Mara rubbed his head and neck though, his eyelids drooped one by one, his wing instinctively pulled in to his own body and his relaxed weight rolled him even tighter against the little green.

Angalyn had trouble keeping her eyes open as well as she scratched and petted Nayrith. She managed a smile at Mara when Klamath rolled closer to Nayrith though.

With both dragons asleep, and Angalyn soon to follow, Mara retrieved the small Healer's bag from the back weyr to re-bandage the girl's wounds. As she worked, Cally and Mynth joined them, Mynth climbing to the couch and falling next to Klamath, eyes closed before her head landed. Cally helped Mara with Angalyn's bandages and then insisted on changing those on Mara's leg.

With fresh numbweed on her back and sides, Angalyn soon sank onto her cot and fell asleep. Cally nearly fell asleep while working on Mara's leg, and was easily guided to her cot just as Brendeen and Teanna entered with droopy little gold dragons at their sides. Other riders followed with two more cots, and two more bed sacks, and a woman from the lower caverns followed with bedding and pillows.

At Mara's surprised expression, Teanna smiled. "This is only temporary. There's really not enough room in here for five of us. And this arrangement frees up one of Weyrlingmaster L'ret's assistants for other duties."

The gold dragonets, urged by their riders, climbed onto the couch and soon snuggled up one next to the each of the green dragons, necks stretched over the green's necks and five tails looking like so many tunnel snakes curled up and intertwined.

As the woman and the riders set up and made the two cots, declaring they didn't need any help, Mara, Teanna and Brendeen sat on Mara's cot, talking about this day's experiences. Teanna and Ayrieth had already experienced one Fall, less than a sevenday earlier, but Teanna said this one was far worse due to the weather. She also explained that this weather pattern seemed to increase in frequency in late summer and ran through cyclical patterns throughout the Turns. This summer promised to be particularly dangerous for dragonriders.

As Teanna talked about what she had learned in her first sevenday, Mara noticed Brendeen's attention drifting. Just as Mara 'heard' Ramoth's call for the standby Wings, Brendeen stiffened.

"Brendeen?" prompted Teanna.

"All the Wings have been called to duty."

"You hear dragons, too?" asked Mara.

Brendeen's lips twisted. "But I can't feel them like you do. And the Healers are going to need more help now." She and Mara both turned to their dragons, knowing they should stay with them, but knowing how desperate the Healers would be with all the riders joining the battle against Thread.

Teanna reassured them both. "I'll stay with them. They'll be fine as long as you return quickly if they wake."

Brendeen and Mara looked at each other and nodded their heads. Both were nearly exhausted from today's stressful emotions, but both felt a strong urge to do what they could.

Brendeen spoke first. "Let's go!"

L'terick heard the weyrlings' discussion and agreed that these little dragons would be fine, their bonds already being quite strong. He would have preferred to offer his assistance at a time like this, but also knew the seeming confusion in the Weyr would be the most obvious time to attempt another attack on the Istan dragons. As the girls passed he offered what he could. "If Saraneth or Klamath wake, I'll ask Quinteth to bring you back here."

The girls each thanked the blue rider. L'ret saw them leaving the weyr and called to them. Both pointed toward the Healers' stations and he gave them a double thumbs-up and motioned for them to get moving.

Gold and brown riders were soon separated. Brendeen stopped to help cover a green rider with numbweed while calming his dragon; the rider had Threadscore on the majority of his body. His green was also covered in score, left side, top and bottom, but none very deep; she must have gone _between_ rather quickly. She was now surrounded by lower cavern people, and even had children spreading numbweed on her back.

Mara moved quickly to a blue who was being held in place by another blue and a brown. His rider was swatting and cursing at everyone who came close to touching him. This blue and his rider were also covered in Threadscore, looking no worse than the green, but the blue was thrashing as wildly as his rider.

_Kindeth!_ yelled Mara telepathically. _Kindeth! Calm down!_

Kindeth did calm just enough to turn his head to Mara, but seemed incapable of coherent thought. Even as he screamed in agony, he lowered his head to allow Mara's caress of his muzzle. The dragon healer approached as Mara jerked away from the blue, tears in her eyes.

"What is it?" he asked.

"He inhaled live Thread." Mara clutched her own chest. "His lungs are almost gone."

The healer's face scrunched in sympathetic pain, but he turned immediately to those trying to help. "Back away! Let him go!" He ran to his other side, yelling the same.

Confused brown and blue dragons released Kindeth as Mara stretched a hand to the rider. "Ch'don?"

Ch'don, one hand clutching his own chest, shook his head at her, but reached his other hand her direction and opened it, palm facing her, and waved. Kindeth launched the moment he was free. Less than a dragon's-length from the ground he blinked into _between_ and dragons throughout Benden Weyr began another eerie dirge_._

As soon as that mourning keen stopped, another started. Mara 'listened' and learned that two weyrlings delivering firestone had been caught by Thread when they came out of _between_ too close to the expansive, wind-tossed leading edge.

Mara walked around the bowl in a functional daze, calming dragons and riders, checking dragons whose wounds were not immediately apparent when asked, and soon realized that the patterns of injuries were quite different than from the several other Falls she had seen. Then, dragons mostly caught a stray clump or strand here or there. This day, they were being caught by whole sheets of the deadly Thread, and not just from above. It was as if the Thread were flying horizontally and sometimes up instead of down. And normally, dragons were able to dodge Thread if it came too heavy, but not today. Was that why the funnel currents were so dangerous? She would certainly pay more attention to discussions of weather from now on.

Mara soon found that she had tuned out most of the audible noise, focusing instead on what she was 'hearing' from the dragons, their riders, and of course any Healers. She moved from injured pair to injured pair, not hearing what anyone said out loud, so was a bit confused when an older child blocked her path with a tray. His lips were moving, but all he was thinking was 'Shells, she's half _between_!' Mara had to refocus her attention to hear the lad asking if she wanted some wine, klah, or water.

"Water, please." She smiled at the lad, trying hard to reverse his opinion of her condition. Not that it really mattered, or did it? How had she managed to block out the noise? She felt like she was in a bad dream, but knew better; this was quite real, and a bit frightening, but she didn't want to dwell on her own feelings right now. Someone was pouring a powdered substance into the mug she was holding. She followed the arms up to Master Healer Tarminas' smiling face. "What's that, sir?"

"Restorative herbs like what's in the wine and klah. Your water will taste a bit strange, but you'll feel better rather quickly." When she only looked at him, he added, "No fellis, I promise."

Mara shook her head and smirked. "I'm sorry, Master. I guess I am a bit tired." So he wouldn't feel as if she didn't trust him – which she did, as his truly concerned thoughts were quite loud – she drank down the entire mug of water. And immediately began feeling just a bit more connected, more responsive; almost alert. She rolled her head around on her neck and focused far easier on the man. "Thank you, Master Tarminas!"

His satisfied smile and sparkling eyes were a picture Mara hoped to retain for all time. It was such a pleasant change from the scowling little self-righteous man she met such a short time ago. Loralin was definitely having a good effect on him! As he nodded humbly and turned away, she asked for one more mug of water, drank it quickly, returned the mug to the tray, and thanked the lad who now smugly thought 'I knew it'.

Mara helped calm another green who had taken score on her belly and under one wing. She was quite upset that her rider broke his nose on her bony neck ridge when she banked suddenly and without warning; it was so instinctive. Her rider was drifting in and out of consciousness with the pain. Mara explained it to her and convinced her that he would be fine once the numbweed and fellis took effect. When the green calmed enough to follow Mara's suggestion that she stand tall so the Healers could treat her belly, Mara also told her that she might want to compliment him on his handsome nose, even if it turned out to be bent or much larger than before.

_Like he compliments me on my beautiful spots and stripes?_

_Exactly!_

_He is very handsome._

_And you are very beautiful!_

When the green's rider finally regained enough of his wits to stand, with help and an awkward bandage across his face, and hugged her muzzle, Mara moved on. And on. And on. Someone handed her a meatroll at one point. She took a bite and nearly heaved it, so put the meatroll in a pocket.

Benden Weyr was only scheduled to fly four candle-marks of this Fall, but due to the increasing number of funnel currents, the fresher Wings flew another candle-mark with Igen Weyr. This allowed wingleaders to share tactics that seemed to be most effective.

Sweep riders, including most of the flying weyrlings, stayed out even longer than those assisting Igen Weyr. In such volatile weather conditions, far more Thread hit ground than normal, or acceptable.

When the last of Benden Weyr's riders returned, the Weyr was minus twelve green dragons, three blue dragons, one brown, and four weyrlings, two of whom had flown bronzes. Nearly half of the scheduled Wings and a quarter of the standby Wings had suffered Threadscore, and nearly a quarter of all riders would be unable to fly the next Fall.

Mara didn't notice when the screaming stopped; quite a few dragons were still distraught over their rider's or their own injuries. She kept wandering from pair to pair strewn all through the bowl, ready to offer what she could, not even noticing that no one seemed to need her anymore.

She did notice, though, when her spine and hips and shoulders started itching almost painfully. And she noticed when Quinteth landed less than half a dragon's-length from her, nearly falling backwards from the onslaught of wind, sand, and surprise. She would have fallen if she had not been caught by powerful arms.

"G'raden?"

"I wish," said Wingleader G'regg with a scornful chuckle. "Let's get you up on Quinteth, hmm?" He laughed at her seemingly drunken demeanor as he led her to the big blue's side.

"You stink."

"While you, my dear, bring to mind the lovely night blooming moonflowers of Landing."

His sarcasm was not totally wasted on the exhausted woman. She laughed as she climbed Quinteth's riding straps with considerable indiscrete pushes from below. "Watch your hands, rider!"

"Oh, I am, weyrling. Believe me! I am!" Standing on the blue's cocked forearm, he made sure the wobbly Mara was tightly secured. "Look!" He pointed toward the fire heights.

Ramoth coasted over the small plateau and down the entire length of the bowl, banked a casual turn, and coasted the full length again to finally land within a dragon's-length of her weyr. Even covered with firestone ash, she was the most beautiful dragon on all of Pern. As she traversed the bowl, all the dragons bugled a gleeful, but solemn, welcome home, even the wounded.

Only G'regg's strong arms kept Mara from losing her balance and flopping from side to side on the still stationary blue dragon.

"This Fall is officially over," said G'regg with reverence. "Now, you lay forward on Quinteth's neck and don't move until someone helps. Understood?"

With one arm wrapped around the blue's neck ridge and the other wrapped partway around his neck, Mara responded. "Yepper, sir." She felt delirious. This Fall is officially over, he had said, and now she wanted to cry or scream, or hug her handsome little brown dragon, or G'raden. She wriggled uncomfortably as she scowled at G'regg, tears bouncing off the blue hide she hugged. "Ooo, I itch."

G'regg grinned as he stepped down. "I'll bet you do." He slapped Quinteth's side before stepping back. "Be careful with her, Quinteth. Thanks for your help."

As the big blue launched into the air and banked sharply to the left to avoid something, Mara spotted G'regg backing up to join G'raden who was being supported by a filthy B'nor. She clenched her eyes shut; so much movement was threatening to bring back that bite of meatroll. G'raden looked as tired as she felt; was he all right?

_Oh, I itch!_

_I'm on my way, my love._

_You're flying! Why are your eyes closed?_

_Quinteth flies fast. The ground makes me dizzy._

The blue landed quite gracefully with barely a jar. L'terick was almost immediately at his side. "You can open your eyes, weyrling." He deftly unfastened the strap holding her in place. "Don't let go yet!" He tugged on her hips until both legs dangled down the same side and she hung from Quinteth's neck ridge.

Quinteth straightened his foreleg and rolled until Mara's feet touched the ground.

Almost laughing, L'terick said, "Now you can let go. Easy though. Have you found your legs?"

"Yepper, um sir." Mara turned around to prove as much only to see Klamath waddling awkwardly toward them, his hide twitching from all the itching. "Ah, sweetums!" Mara leaned forward – not a brilliant thing to do when backed up to anything – and was promptly caught by an arm across her collar bones, and Klamath's gentle mouth on her outstretched hand.

"Move your feet, weyrling," suggested L'terick. The worried tone of Klamath's eyes prompted a bit of an explanation. "She's just tired, Klamath. She's pushed herself beyond her limits."

"Did not. Just need more of those restor-tive herbs." As blue rider and brown dragonet led her into the weyr, tears flowed again. "You're so strong, Klamath, and so brave, and handsome." In her mind, she kept seeing all the Threadscored dragons and knew that Klamath would surely suffer the same someday.

As she was turned to sit on her cot, Master Mekelroy entered the weyr, a pitcher in each hand. He sat one down on the small table and filled a mug with the other. Grinning, he walked to the cot and handed the mug to Mara. "Herbed tea . . ."

Mara took the mug with a thank you, and drank it down, anxious to get Klamath oiled. She took a deep breath and turned betrayed eyes to the Harper.

"Manora's special sleep inducing blend, offered freely at the request of your weyrlingmaster."

"But I need to oil Klamath."

_Mack can oil me, can't you Mack?_

"I'll go get the oil right now, Klamath." And Mack walked out of Mara's decreasing field of vision.

"I have duties!" she pleaded with L'terick.

"You've performed plenty of duties for one day, weyrling. Now rest." He easily pushed her to lie down and moved to remove her boots.

Klamath laid his head on her belly, crooning softly as Bista scratched the itches on his back. _Sleep, my pretty rider._

Frowning, eyes closing against her will, Mara whined, "But, L'ret will call me 'My Lady' again."

L'terick laughed freely at that. "That will continue no matter what you do, or don't do. So follow his orders now, and get some rest."

The last word that almost made it out of the big weyrling's mouth was, "Ssshhhaaarr . . ."

'Mack' oiled Klamath with some help from L'terick, the Harper chuckling from time to time for no apparent reason. Once all the itches were properly treated, L'terick led Klamath outside to play with Mynth and Nayrith and Ayrieth and Saraneth, while Mack settled at the small table. K'remin was tasked with watching the girls again, and he watched one in particular a little closer than the others even as he kept an eye on everything else going on in the Weyr.

After the youngest dragonets had finished playing and before they were permitted to eat, all the weyrlings were called to sit with their dragons for the 'weyrling's debriefing'. The three newest weyrlings were informed that this would be standard procedure after each Fall. The flying weyrlings were each given a chance to describe what they had done, what they had seen, and how they felt about it. Those closest to graduating to the fighting wings seemed the best adjusted to dealing with a Threadfall, but even some of them broke into tears from time to time. Fellow weyrlings, the weyrlingmaster and his assistants would comfort them as newer weyrlings simply watched, listened, and absorbed the experience through other's eyes.

Then the older non-flying weyrlings reported in the same manner on what they had done during Fall. Those who helped the Healers were most prone to break down and were comforted by the flying weyrlings and full riders alike. Any rude comments were quickly and soundly reprimanded by L'ret. Such feelings were perfectly natural, declared the brown rider, and should never be hidden out of some ridiculous sense of bravado; at least not within the Weyr. We all have bad feelings sometimes, he said, and the best way to deal with them is to share them with people who can understand the cause.

Brendeen, being one of the newest weyrlings and therefore last, was asked to relate her experiences helping the healers. She spoke matter of factly about all that she had done, seen and thought, her voice cracking only a very few times. An anonymous comment about her seeming lack of emotion brought L'ret to his feet and threatened to burst a few blood vessels in his face.

"Those chosen by queen dragons tend to be the very strongest of any of us." He put a hand on her shoulder as she stared straight ahead above the heads of the weyrlings seated before them. "This future weyrwoman has obviously witnessed calamity such as today's long before coming to us, and has learned to set aside her feelings to be shared at what she considers a more appropriate time." He turned to Brendeen. "Now, as long as you express what you're feeling . . ."

Brendeen smiled tightly. "I most certainly will, Weyrlingmaster. Thank you for your concern."

"Very well. Now we'll discuss . . ."

A poorly disguised voice from the group interrupted. "And where's the biggest weyrling? Too old to participate?" The disguise failed as several weyrlings glared at the young man.

"How dare you?" Brendeen lost all semblance of control. "How dare you ridicule her because of her age, or her size?" When L'ret tried to calm her she turned on him and nearly screamed. "Back off!" She turned back to the young bronze rider who had perpetrated such rudeness. "She did everything I did and far more. Not only did she hear all those dragons' fear, and desperation; she felt every single Threadscore, every single sprained or torn muscle, every single cracked or broken wing bone, and even," here her voice caught before she could continue, "the Thread eaten lungs of a dying blue. How dare you even hint that she might be weak in any way. How many of you could deal with that kind of pain repeatedly, and keep going back for more?"

Teanna, a hand gently on Brendeen's arm, leaned close to her ear and whispered something.

Brendeen's eyes darted through the gathered weyrlings, especially the youngest of the newest, concern twisting her furious features. She finished with far more outward control, but her whole body shook with fury. "Never! Ridicule! What you don't understand!" She lifted her chin proudly and defiantly, and faced L'ret. "My apologies, Weyrlingmaster L'ret. May I be excused, please?"

L'ret nodded deeply. "Of course, Lady Brendeen."

Brendeen seemed about to explode again, but another whisper from Teanna stopped her. Instead, she turned and stomped away from the group, Teanna and two gold dragonets quickstepping to keep up.

L'ret caught the eye of K'remin and motioned him to follow the gold weyrlings, but to keep his distance. K'remin nodded, understanding their need for privacy after such a public release. High ranking holdbred women, after all, just did not display their emotions in public like weyrbred folk. As the golds hadn't eaten yet, he stopped at the barracks for several buckets of meat before hurrying to get a bit closer to the furious little lady.

L'ret ran his eyes over the assembled weyrlings. Most were in awe of Brendeen's display. A few seemed about to cry. Some of the older bronze weyrlings whispered and smiled, and one young bronze rider seemed about to explode with anger. The weyrlingmaster looked back to check the retreating weyrlings location. "That, weyrlings, is a weyrwoman to be careful around." When a few chuckles broke out he raised his voice. "And to respect! Did you happen to notice, as furious as she was with that _childish _attempt to belittle another weyrling," he looked purposefully at young B'rand, "she never once belittled any of you? That is a weyrwoman to respect." He took a deep breath before returning to his agenda for this meeting. "Now, we will discuss what we can learn from today's events. Who would like to share what they've learned?"

Discussion ranged from most efficient ways to handle firestone bags to flying tactics, and included concentration and stress handling techniques. L'ret, with Duranth's help, kept any eye on the youngest dragons; as more and more grew increasingly worried about eating, he called an end to the meeting, reminding everyone that he would be available in his office should anyone have questions.

The youngest dragons ate in preparation for a long night's nap, and older weyrlings had free time until the scheduled 'lights out' time. Older weyrlings used this time to bathe and inspect their riding straps, breaking up into groups to further discuss the day's events, and sometimes to console each other on atrocities they had witnessed. A few brave and/or curious younger weyrlings hung around their elders, and were permitted such as long as they didn't disrupt what were becoming post Thread routines.

Some of the older weyrlings made it their duty to console newer weyrlings after their dragons fell asleep, when the emotions of the day were finally deemed safe to release. The more experienced weyrlings would congratulate the youngsters for using such control, but also remind them that eventually they would have to share their feelings with their dragons, if their dragons weren't already fully aware and trying to protect their riders.

L'ret, when not occupied with answering questions, or reminding flying riders that pride could be deadly, stood in the hallway watching how the weyrlings were coping with this disastrous day. He felt pride that so many of his near-graduates took the initiative to help their younger counterparts. He felt sorrow that so many young people's innocence had been shattered this day, but saw great promise in the way they appeared willing to learn the realities of dragon riding. And he worried about the one new weyrling who sat alone, fuming, snapping at anyone who came near his cot. He would have to talk to that young man; it wouldn't do to have a bronze rider snapping at underlings. Anger was not an uncommon reaction to stress, but directing that anger at innocents was unacceptable.

After lights out, and another candle-mark for those weyrlings who couldn't yet sleep, and after checking on the several assistants who would sleep in the barracks, L'ret and Duranth flew to their weyr not far from the barracks. There, L'ret opened and drank a small skin of potent liquor while sitting between Duranth's front legs and looking out over the now mostly quiet bowl. They shared their thoughts and feelings about each of the weyrling pairs and finally, as the skin was nearly empty, touched on the shame L'ret felt at losing four weyrlings in one Fall. Duranth, knowing his rider so well, let his rider cry and yell and cry some more before reminding him that there are always weyrlings who do not listen to their weyrlingmaster. After drizzling the last few drops of liquor close to his mouth, L'ret fell asleep in the loving embrace of his brown lifemate.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Hope you're enjoying!


	13. A Harper's First Threadfall in a Weyr

This is a step back in the same day, with a closer look at Mekelroy and Cally.

* * *

Mekelroy was rather grateful when K'remin let him stay with Angalyn and Nayrith. Yesterday had been extremely difficult and today would be no better.

Why had Masterharper Sebell, Weyrleader F'lar and Weyrwoman Lessa insisted he spend a sevenday in Benden Weyr? Surely, this could be considered torture; watching these beautiful little dragons growing with their partners, witnessing what might have been with . . . Reaneth. Ahhh, even thinking her name caused the hole in his chest to ache as fiercely as when . . . no, he would not think of that.

Sebell – one of the few Mekelroy considered a friend – said he would not allow this 'incident' to haunt him as his past did. He said Mekelroy needed to come to terms with his hasty decision. What 'terms' could be reached, fumed Mekelroy? He made a snap decision with no more than a moment's thought. Right or wrong, that was now history and could not be changed. What 'terms' could possibly make it less haunting? He . . . killed . . . a newly hatched dragon.

Mekelroy had made grave mistakes before, and he lived with them. He accepted that he was merely human, and humans made mistakes. A man lived with his mistakes, and learned from them. And Mekelroy had learned from his previous errors in judgment. He no longer sat back and hoped for the best. Mekelroy now took necessary steps to prevent human disaster. Never again would someone like Fax . . . But, that, too, was history; a history that Mekelroy would never allow to be repeated.

Toric had been stopped. Mekelroy, and quite a few other Harpers, had watched his transgressions, reported them, and even foiled some of them. They, with Mara's help, had put together the pieces of the Istan puzzle and stopped an atrocious breach of Weyr autonomy, and as a result, Toric was now under guard at Ista Weyr. All the major Holders and Craftmasters had witnessed his egregious attempt at controlling Ista Weyr and its dragons. Surely, he would not be set free now. But there were still others: the abominators sought to destroy what they didn't understand and therefore feared, and though 'Fourth' was being held at Ista Weyr, there were many others ready to step into her place. Mekelroy had plenty more work to do; he did not have time to lounge in a Weyr.

Sebell had finally given Mekelroy a choice; seven days at Benden Weyr, or reassignment to Harper Hall at Fort Hold for considerably longer.

Well, thought Mekelroy, one sevenday of rest might do him good. He turned his chair and leaned back against the rock wall, still cool from lack of morning sun. And he dozed, half awake and aware of Bista, half conserving energy for what might be needed later. He would earn his keep by guarding the 'Istan weyrlings', and later he would find out who had hurt sweet little Cally. He already recognized the canines involved, and was pretty sure he recognized one of Toric's henchmen.

Bista, perched on his shoulder, settled to keep watch while her master rested. She hummed a soothing fire-lizard melody to help him relax as her eyes roamed the area around them.

Bista's newly hatched green cousin rested peacefully near her rider, and other young cousins slept near the lake. Their riders were hiding somewhere. Other humans were roaming the inside of this crater, but none approached this weyr or her master. She continued her surveillance.

As the shadows receded, all the young dragons' riders returned to the sunshine in a flock. They listened to the older rider and then moved in all directions. Bista raised her level of watchfulness. When three females approached, she stretched out her neck and gave warning with her sharp teeth bared and orange eyes swirling – she didn't want to wake her master yet. They slowed and the middle sized female sent calming images, but Bista would not be fooled. She maintained her vigilance until the three females moved slowly away from her master. When they were far enough away, Bista resettled and returned to humming for her master; he was good to her and she would do anything for him.

Later, the three females returned, wisely keeping their distance. The smallest one moved toward Bista with great care, apparently knowing how dangerous a dragon's little gold cousin could be. She carried a tray with food and drink – Bista recognized the containers hiding the contents. Food would be welcome, so Bista allowed the smallest female to place the tray on the table, but would not take the little one's offering. Bista never took food from anyone but her master, though she did hunt for herself quite often. When the females left, Bista hopped onto the table and sniffed the food. It smelled good, but she would wait for her master to wake. She hopped back to his shoulder and settled again, watching the humans, her dragon cousins, and the food.

Increasing activity outside the weyr woke Mekelroy. Out of habit, he kept his eyes closed until Bista shared her view of the area – including a long look at the tray on the table. The increase in activity would be due to Thread falling this afternoon – had he truly dozed the morning away? A teasing smile earned him a muzzle poke on the cheek before he opened his eyes to peer at Bista.

Bista hopped excitedly to the table and pointed out the various covered items on the tray.

"What have we here, my dear?" A picture of Cally's offering of meat filled his mind, though he had to stretch to actually see Cally. He feigned a scolding tone. "Who did you allow to come this close, Bista?" Pictures of Cally, Brendeen and Teanna flooded his mind as Bista poked at the napkin covering the bowl with small meat chunks. "Ah, you know who our friends are, don't you?" Teasingly ignoring her preference, he picked up the thermos, unfastened the top and sniffed. "Mmmm, klah!" He poured a mug and took a sip. Bista's annoyed chirps almost sent klah on a reverse course through his nose. He sat the mug down and started lifting napkins. "Ah, meatroll, cold greens, spicy sauce for the greens, fruit – but not redfruit – and what is this?" He lifted one corner of the napkin over the meat. He laughed when Bista grabbed another corner and tossed the napkin to the floor. "Herdbeast? And you didn't eat any? Good girl, Bista. We'll just check to be sure our friends didn't give us any surprises, right?" As a constant continuation of her lifelong training, Mekelroy made a proper show of carefully sniffing a piece of her meat before placing it on his tongue and letting it sit for a few moments. He then chewed it and swallowed. "It's quite good! Would you like some meat, my sweet?"

Bista cocked her head and released a restrained, but impatient squawk.

"Good girl," he crooned. "You've been very patient. You eat your meat, and I'll eat the rest." As he raised the meatroll to take a bite, Bista squawked again, rose to her haunches and put her forepaws on the hand holding the roll. Mekelroy smiled gratefully. "You're right, my dear Bista. I should check all the food. Thank you for reminding me." He made a proper show of checking his own food before Bista settled into eating her meat with elegant neatness.

Mekelroy's adoration of his gold fire-lizard was interrupted by the launching of the fighting Wings. He quickly covered the tray, including Bista's meat, with available napkins to keep any flying sand out of their food. They both craned their necks to watch as movement in the bowl seemed to diminish. When the air, and sand, stilled, they returned to their meal, and their mutual adoration.

When the first casualties began flying in, the seeming confusion in Benden Weyr's bowl very quickly became overwhelming; Mekelroy's only other experience coming even close to this level of activity and emotion was just a few days prior, at Ista Weyr. Not true, thought Mekelroy, there was one other time: when Fax's men purged the small Ruathan hold where he had been teaching. But that was history, he insisted. Right now, Mekelroy was having a bit of trouble sorting out which of his feelings had to do with his presence in a Weyr during Threadfall, and which were memories of the Hatching at Ista Weyr.

Master Harper Mekelroy was not accustomed to being overcome with feelings, not that he didn't have them and express them freely when appropriate. But, he could normally compartmentalize his feelings sufficiently to function in whatever capacity was necessary. It was part of being a harper, and quite necessary for any Master Harper. Put on the appropriate face to achieve the desired results, whether learning, teaching or entertaining. A Harper learns early to keep his or her emotions under control.

And yet, twice in one sevenday, Mekelroy was on the verge of losing his hard earned control. Was it the dragons, he wondered? And just as quickly dismissed that thought as extremely unfair to dragonkind. No, he had never met a dragon he didn't like, and even liked most of their riders. So, it had to be his failing causing so much inner confusion.

Why had little Reaneth chosen him, an old man compared to most candidates, and not at all interested in being a dragonrider? Plenty of young, properly searched candidates had been provided by the other Weyrs. Could she have been as confused as he was that day? Could she have simply been following her sire and golden sister, trusting that they knew where the riders were? Was she disappointed to find only an old Harper even close to matching her personality?

Bista chirped for attention on Mekelroy's shoulder and rubbed her head against his cheek. She licked tears from that cheek until her friend and master smiled and then laughed at her antics.

"I didn't intend to distress you, my darling Bista. Come down here, so I can see how beautiful you are." He patted the table and she hopped down to face him. He lovingly stroked her with both hands from head to tail. "Yes, my lovely little girl, I know you love me - almost as much as I love you." Her indignant squawk was delivered on queue at this little game. "No more self-pity, all right? But I do need to establish cause and determine corrective actions."

Mekelroy continued stroking his sweet little partner as he reviewed what had happened. He didn't know why Reaneth chose him and likely never would. He knew why, at that exact moment, he had refused impression, and had been second guessing that decision ever since. So, he was still under stress from Ista's Hatching. He had felt imprisoned by Masterharper Sebell's and the Benden weyrleaders' assertion that he should stay at Benden Weyr for a sevenday. He hadn't felt there was anything to 'come to terms with'. What was done was done and nothing would change that. He had only relented to this confinement when Sebell had suggested reassigning him to Harper Hall. He'd made the best of his time at Benden, having at least enjoyed watching Mara and then sweet little Cally, who reminded him so much of dear little . . . he squashed that thought; he could not afford to think about Ruatha or them. His time in Ruatha was history, most of the people he knew all dead and buried just like his memories of that time.

Determined to concentrate on the present, Mekelroy refocused on the activities in the bowl, and realized that, somehow, in all his turns as a Harper, he had never managed to be inside a Weyr during Threadfall. So, this day was full of completely new sights and sounds and emotions. Perhaps that novelty was the cause of his confusion; he had never been very quick to accept new things, and even after acceptance, a sometimes lengthy period of adjustment was needed to lose his suspicions. He could objectively observe anything, but participation in, and acceptance of new things was not his greatest strength.

So, he observed the activity inside Benden Weyr's bowl. He opened his small carisak, withdrew paper and pencil, and began recording his observations with drawings and some narrative.

When the newest weyrlings and their tiny dragons moved past the opening to this weyr, he caught the desperately fearful looks on some of the youngsters' faces in his drawings. As all the dragons, young and old, joined in an eerie keen, he caught the tiniest dragons with heads raised toward the sky, and their riders with tears in their eyes in his drawings.

Was it those horrible heart ripping sounds from the dragons that were affecting him so strangely? He looked around the bowl again. Except for the newest weyrlings, most dragonriders seemed unfazed by the dragons' screams. So, he deduced, it was a learned tolerance.

An escalating moan from behind drew his attention into the small weyr. Angalyn was waking, Nayrith already off the couch and at her side. When she spotted Mekelroy in the entrance, her moan changed to a scream. So Mekelroy backed out of the weyr, trying to calm her as he went. Calming and yelling – to be heard over the surrounding auditory assaults – were highly incompatible, and were not having the desired effect. Mekelroy backed further from the weyr, inviting young Angalyn to come outside and see for herself what was happening.

Seeing an escape route, Angalyn, with Nayrith's head hugged to her side, scooted cautiously toward the entrance, around the corner and a short distance along the wall of the bowl. Seeing the actions causing all the noise only served to confuse and frighten her even more. She sank to the ground, mouth and eyes wide open, Nayrith hugged tightly next to her. The girl remained silent until L'terick passed Mekelroy and tried to approach, and then she began screaming, and pleading.

"Go away! Leave us alone! Make it stop!"

_Master Mack? Do you need help?_

Mara, thank the first egg, thought Mekelroy before answering. _I'm afraid we do. Neither of them understands what's happening and neither of them is listening to either one of us._

_We're on our way._

Good, thought Mekelroy, and then wondered why that big woman's presence should be so comforting. He watched helplessly as Angalyn seemed about to choke her little dragon and as L'terick backed away hoping to calm her enough to release her fierce grip. It worked; Nayrith was safe for the moment. But the girl kept yelling and screaming. A part of the Harper's mind wanted to join her.

He watched, still helpless, as Mara and Klamath approached the girl, and silently cheered as the girl ran into Mara's arms. When L'terick asked if he would watch the girls, Mekelroy nodded; of course he would watch the girls – it was far better than watching anything else in the Weyr.

Mekelroy watched as Mara calmed Angalyn down and walked closer hoping to hear what she was saying. The echoing screams of the injured dragons made listening nearly impossible until he sat next to Klamath, Bista wrapped securely around his neck. He listened as Mara talked to the little dragons and to Angalyn, his numb mind grasping at each simple word.

When the dragons began another mourning keen, Mekelroy clenched his jaw and eyes tightly closed. He had heard the sound before and knew what it meant. He had heard it in his mind for what seemed like turns after he fell to the floor at Ista Weyr, and still heard it if he slept too deeply. He grasped again at Mara's explanation, hoping something would make sense, but it just didn't. Dragons fly into Thread to flame it and sometimes they get scored so badly that they go _between_ forever? It just didn't make any sense to fly into something that would make you want to die. He opened his eyes to see all the people still working and wondered how they could do that. How could they keep working as if nothing had happened? A small part of his mind tried to remind him that he had to do the same sometimes in his work.

As Mara talked about someone having to fight Thread, Mekelroy was glad it wasn't him. How did these people face Thread every few days and maintain any measure of sanity?

Mekelroy listened to the rest of the weyrlings' discussion. Poor Angalyn; she really didn't have a choice now that she had impressed. Or did she? What would a Weyr do if a rider simply could not face Thread? Could he possibly face Thread with a brave dragon beneath him? What would his fear do to a dragon? Could he and Reaneth have survived past weyrling training?

_Are you all right Master Mack?_

How should he explain this? _It's all so overwhelming._ He couldn't even look at Mara who was no longer at his side, but moving away. Was that guilt, or shame, or . . . what?

_Haven't you ever been in a Weyr during Threadfall?_

_Never._

_You do get used to it, Master._

Maybe Mara could, but . . . _No. I don't think I will. _We all have our weaknesses, thought Mekelroy as he stood up.

_Are you all right, Master?_

And we all have our strengths. He tried to smile at Pern's first female brown rider. _I'll be fine, Mara. You go about your duties._ Bista trilled in cheerful agreement as Mekelroy walked to the small weyr to retrieve his drawing supplies. Later, he would talk to the weyrleaders, and hopefully Sebell. But for now, he would do what he did best – he would record what he saw and help if and when he could.

* * *

Cally woke with a start. Was it the noise of the Fall still echoing around the bowl and into this weyr? Or was she just not as tired as poor Angalyn surely was? She sat up in her cot, looked around, and smiled. There was Mynth, snuggled up to Klamath with Ayrieth on her other side. And there was Angalyn; should she check her bandages? How long had she been sleeping? The other cots were empty. She turned to look around the rest of the weyr, and there was Teanna talking to Mack, Bista listening intently.

She put her boots back on, though she didn't remember taking them off, stood and looked one more time at beautiful Mynth; she looked so peaceful and comfortable. Cally sent all her love to her sweet little green, and was rewarded with a deep, satisfied sigh.

Reluctantly, Benden Weyr's youngest weyrling turned away from the crowded dragon couch and checked on Angalyn. She, too, was sleeping peacefully on her stomach, and her bandages looked fine, so Cally walked toward the main entrance.

Mack looked better than the last couple days. He was smiling as he and Teanna talked, and his eyes sparkled, and he just sat different. And it didn't change when he looked at Cally, like it sometimes did when a man was talking to a pretty lady and she interrupted. He has a wonderful smile, thought Cally, as she moved closer, feeling welcome.

"And how is Benden's youngest little weyrling? Feeling rested?" asked Mekelroy.

"I'm fine, thank you. Where's Mara, and Brendeen?"

"Ahh," Mekelroy's smile faded slightly. "They are helping the Healers."

"I should help too." Cally wasn't sure she really wanted to see why so many dragons were screaming, but she did want to be a healer, and healers couldn't be choosy about who they healed, but this really sounded scary.

"L'terick strongly suggested that we stay with our dragons until they wake," offered Teanna.

That's good, thought Cally. "But, why aren't Mara and Brendeen here?"

Teanna smiled indulgently. "Mara and Brendeen have exceptionally strong bonds with their dragons. L'terick believes that is due to their having heard dragons since early childhood. We need to work on our bonds just a little more, so we need to be visible if they should wake during Fall."

"So they won't get scared?"

"So they will know they are not alone during a scary time like this."

"Will you sit with us, little weyrling?" Mekelroy's big smile was followed by a pitiful frown. "We don't like to be alone at times like this either."

Cally smirked. Was he trying to baby her? Or did he really not like to be alone? "There's only two chairs."

Mekelroy patted his knee and offered hopefully, "You're welcome to sit here."

Cally couldn't help grinning. She liked Mack the Harper. He didn't treat her like some men did; too young to waste time on. And he answered her questions, mostly. She walked closer and let him help her onto his lap. "What were you talking about? Did I interrupt?"

"No, you didn't interrupt." Teanna spoke a little too quickly.

Mekelroy laughed. "I think Teanna was growing uncomfortable with my line of questioning." He laughed again when Teanna blushed, and answered Cally's first question. "We were discussing Lady Teanna's expectations as a dragonrider."

That sounded simple to Cally. "You'll be a weyrwoman someday, like Lessa."

Teanna laughed delicately. "Not necessarily! I may remain a junior weyrwoman for the duration of this Pass."

"How much longer will this Pass last?"

Mekelroy answered. "If the Aivas was correct, there will only be sixteen more turns of Thread, ever."

Cally did some figuring in her head. "So, Mynth and I will only have to fly Thread for eleven turns?" That was a relief. She hadn't met too many old green riders, and wasn't sure why. But she knew plenty of green riders who looked to be in their third decade, like she would be in sixteen turns.

"That is correct." Mekelroy gave his best teacher's affirmation. "So, what are your expectations for your next sixteen turns, Cally?"

Excitement was impossible to resist. "After weyrling training, Master Oldive wants me to go to Healer Hall for healer training. Maybe I can be a journeywoman Healer before I have to fly Thread, and then maybe I'll be needed in the Weyr more than in the sky," her excitement had diminished somewhat. "But, maybe not, so I guess weyrling training is still really important. But that's all right, because L'ret is a really good weyrlingmaster, and I know he'll help Mynth and me be the best green riders ever."

Mekelroy held back a laugh at her exuberant beginning, but nodded with understanding at her final analysis. She was naturally afraid of fighting Thread, he realized, but obviously not paralyzed by that fear – like he was earlier this day. He had served on ground crews in the past, and even been caught outdoors during Threadfall, but most of those times had been under skies already cleared of Thread by dragons. He found now that the mere thought of hunting Thread in the sky, even with the aid of a mighty dragon, was simply beyond his heroic capabilities. Perhaps, if he had been exposed to the idea at a much younger age? But he had always wanted to be a Harper.

"A healer with a dragon assistant will be in high demand after this Pass has ended," he reassured the sweet girl.

"A harper with a dragon would be, too," Cally blurted, and then realized what she had said. "Oh, I'm sorry, Mack! Mamma always said that talking before thinking could get me in trouble."

Mekelroy, after a brief scowl, pulled the girl a little closer. "You're right, Cally. And so is your Mamma. But I happen to appreciate honesty, so I take no offense at your honest assessment."

"I wasn't supposed to remind you." Cally stopped and thought about the craziness of that. "Why are you still here, Mack? Doesn't it just hurt more to see all these dragons?"

"Cally!" scolded Teanna.

"Both fair questions! And I believe I am finally realizing the answers to those questions. My Master, Sebell, and your weyrleaders believed I should spend a sevenday at Benden Weyr to 'come to terms' with my rather hasty decision. And, though I will always regret hurting poor Reaneth, I am realizing that I would have been a very poor dragonrider."

"Why?" asked Cally.

Teanna frowned and closed her eyes at such innocent rudeness.

Mekelroy answered as honestly as he could, finding it rather cathartic to talk about his discoveries. "Oh, there are many reasons. First of all, the thought of flying into Thread?" He pulled a theatrical frightened expression as he shook his head. When Cally giggled, he continued a bit more seriously. "Second, I've never been very good at teamwork. I really like working alone most of the time. I can work with others, of course, for short periods, but not for very long. I think that would get me into far too much trouble with a dragon. And, third, I really enjoy being a Harper. It's what I've worked for since I was very young."

"And being here, surrounded by dragons helped you figure all that out?"

Mekelroy nodded. "Yes, it did. Being at Benden Weyr, watching how all these people, and dragons, work so well together is truly amazing, but I just can't see how I would ever fit in."

"But . . ." began Cally.

Teanna interrupted quickly, almost gracefully. "So, now you can return to Harpering in good conscience. Correct?"

Cally was slightly peeved at being interrupted, but quickly understood that Teanna was just trying to save Mack from more questions. She would ask Teanna why later, when Mack wasn't nearby.

Mekelroy gave a grateful partial smile. "Mostly correct." His smile faded as his eyes drifted to follow a green dragon walking toward the lake. "I'll always wonder who Reaneth would have been. All dragons are wonderful. But, I feel certain that she made a horrible mistake in choosing me." He quickly looked back to Teanna – if she was anything like Lessa, she would surely feel insulted. "She must have been confused by all the horrible atrocities going on around her." His breath caught as he recalled the confusion he had witnessed.

Cally reached an arm over his shoulders, being careful of Bista, and gave him a commiserating hug. She hadn't seen the hatching, having been in the back of the kitchen area, but had heard dragons screeching, and keening, and people yelling. Still being in a daze over the loss of her parents, it never fully registered until just now.

Mekelroy returned her hug, rocking her as she recalled that day, sniffing in an attempt to avoid crying himself. When her sobs decreased, he tried to change her focus. "That day is history, Cally dear. And it wasn't all horrible, was it?" When she looked up at him, he winked and looked back toward the little dragons snoozing comfortably. It worked.

Cally couldn't feel bad about anything when she looked at Mynth sandwiched between brown and gold dragonets. But she did feel sad for Mack. "Will you be at Benden Weyr for a whole sevenday?"

Mekelroy hoped not; he had so much work left to do. "That will be up to your weyrleaders and my master." He affected a comical frown. "Would that be so bad?"

"Nooo!" Cally grinned at the Harper. "I wish you could stay longer."

Mekelroy laughed easily as he raised a hand to stroke Bista. "We do have other work to do, but now that we know we have friends here, we will certainly return as often as possible."

The weyrlings, gold and green, both questioned Mekelroy on his work. Teanna was not totally surprised that harpers did more than teach and entertain, but Cally was fascinated at how Harper Hall kept track of the mood – and events – of Pern, and had a hand in guiding that mood in more peaceful directions. Mekelroy, of course, did not mention some of his more clandestine adventures, though he did see quite a few withheld questions in the older girl's sparkling, intelligent eyes. Both girls marveled at his drawing abilities, even recognizing people and dragons in his pages of recording this day's Fall at Benden Weyr.

All three were immensely relieved when the majority of the fighting dragons returned to the Weyr. Everyone noticed the subdued mood though. Teanna especially, noticed the difference between this Fall and the last; there was no cheering this day, only reserved continuation of post-Fall duties. So many wounded still spread out in the bowl certainly had a great deal to do with the solemnity.

L'terick entered the weyr just as Ayrieth began to stir; Quinteth had warned him of her, and the other dragonets', rising level of consciousness.

_Mack?_

_L'ret!_ Mekelroy was almost knocked off his chair by the weyrlingmaster's loud, focused thought.

_May I impose upon you to ask Manora for her sleep time tea?_

_It has been a rough day, Weyrlingmaster._

_Not for me! For our big old overzealous brown rider weyrling._

Mekelroy smiled, certain he had almost heard "you fool!" in the middle of L'ret's explanation. _I'm on my way, Weyrlingmaster._

The girls had already moved toward the dragon couch and L'terick kept an eye on Angalyn from the entrance.

Mekelroy could see the reluctant concern on the poor blue rider's face. He placed a comforting hand on the man's shoulder. "I believe she's accepted the challenge of being a dragonrider, L'terick. She'll be fine. And I'll be right back; I have an errand to run."

L'terick shot the Harper a question of his loyalty, but then smiled and nodded.

As Mekelroy ran along the eastern wall of the bowl, he barely caught a glimpse of a big blue dragon swerving through a mass of other airborne dragons with a large woman clinging to his neck, eyes clamped shut. He smiled at the possible teasing he could offer the big woman later and ran a little faster with Bista flying circles above his head. As he ran, he realized he felt a bit lighter and somewhat less confused by recent events. More self-analysis was still needed, but he could now feel that progress had been achieved.

Bista chirruped her agreement and flew ahead to the kitchen area, encouraging him to hurry.

* * *

As always, thanks for all the wonderful reviews!

Reviews, of course, being the only payment I receive for this little series of stories.


	14. A Normal Day?

Haven't done a disclaimer in a while.

No, I haven't forgetten that Dragonriders of Pern is not mine, but I keep wishing.

Many heartfelt thanks to Anne and Todd McCaffrey for allowing me to share my dreams.

* * *

Mara woke to silence. She felt rested, but still stiff and a little achy in the legs. The side of her leg burned, but numbweed would fix that. She opened her eyes and was a bit confused by the near darkness. Reaching out with her mind she found very few dragons or people awake. Kitcheners were working, and the watch dragon was watching the increasing color in the eastern sky. Rukbat hadn't risen yet!

She reached mentally for Klamath as she turned her head to see him at the center of a draconic huddle. He, like the others, was sound asleep, peaceful and content. She turned her head the other way and found Master Mack leaned back against the wall near the weyr entrance; dozing, or sleeping? Two tiny blue orbs watched her from beneath his chin. Mara sent calm, soothing and quiet thoughts to the little gold fire-lizard and was rewarded with a calming view of Benden's bowl in return.

No one was moving in the bowl yet. Mara smiled in excitement as she thought of what she could accomplish before anyone even knew she was awake. She held her breath to forestall any involuntary moans or groans, and carefully got to her feet. In her stocking feet, she walked quietly to the back weyr, closing the curtain, hoping to silence any noise she might make. She used the necessary and washed her hands and face. A good amount of water over her hair cured the lopsided waviness and a drying cloth finished her hair chores. In the rider's weyr, she changed her clothing - yesterday's was ripe with sweat, firestone, numbweed, and more than a bit of fear. She wondered at the wisdom of changing before running her lap, but had no idea when she might find time to change later, and reasoned that bathing Klamath would wash away most of her sweat. She cleaned and re-bandaged her leg after reapplying a generous amount of numbweed. The scratches looked fine; they were already scabbing over nicely. She would have foregone the bandages if she weren't wearing long trousers which would rub the scabs.

Personal needs attended to, Mara quietly walked to her cot, retrieved her boots, and still in stocking feet, walked into the quiet Weyrbowl. As she donned her boots, a nearly silent swoosh drew her attention. Duranth, L'ret astride, was gliding to the floor of the bowl. Did he always rise this early?

_Good morning, Mara._

_Good morning, L'ret._

_Are you preparing for your lap?_

_Yes, sir._

_Have you treated your leg?_

_Yes, sir._

_Good. We'll talk when you've finished running._

_Yes, sir._ Mara wondered about L'ret's reticent demeanor. He hadn't been the least bit sarcastic, or even gruff; something was not quite normal. She refused to probe his thoughts, though - that would surely be an invasion of his privacy – instead choosing to 'listen' to the watch dragon and her rider as they admired the rising of Rukbat.

Mara ran and walked carefully this morning; the bowl was still nearly dark and tripping hazards still hidden. She 'listened' as the watch dragon complained about not being allowed to hunt the wild forest runners near Benden Lake until the end of their watch, and noticed as other people and dragons began waking, G'raden and Normond among the first. To avoid those accompanying thoughts, memories, and hopes she focused on the coming day's activities.

Weyrling Mara had not experienced a 'normal' weyrling training day yet, and was rather excited at the prospect of being present for all the day's classes and exercises, and extremely excited about spending a full day with Klamath. Had he been affected by her absences so far? Surely L'ret, and Duranth, would not have permitted their separations if he had. But, still, Mara worried about her tiny lifemate. She laughed at herself, though, when she realized that he wouldn't be tiny for much longer. Klamath was from a Benden queen's clutch, so he might even come close to Canth in size. But size wasn't nearly as important as agility and endurance and intelligence. If they were both careful and attentive during training, mused Mara, Klamath could still be the best brown dragon on Pern. He was already the best in Mara's admittedly biased mind; so smart and quick to learn new things, and nearly as big and strong as the other youngest browns.

Pern's first female brown rider smiled beautifully as she fast-walked the last stretch of her lap. L'ret marveled at her ability to put yesterday behind her so quickly and seemingly easily. He felt better after his two morning laps, but still felt the effects of last evening's self-medication. "Walk with me," he said as she approached.

When Mara, slightly out of breath, nodded, L'ret matched her pace and smiled. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Better than the last two or three days. And how are you this morning, sir?"

L'ret chose to ignore her question. "How's your leg?"

"It's scabbing nicely. With the bandages, it should be just fine while I bathe Klamath."

"Good. You will see the healers before the morning meal."

"Yes, sir."

"You pushed yourself too far yesterday."

"I only did what was necessary, sir."

"If Klamath had wakened . . ."

"If Klamath had wakened, sir, I would have returned to him."

"You were unable to tend to him last night."

"I was willing, sir. I was told you requested the sleeping herbs."

"You could barely walk. I didn't want you falling on Klamath."

Mara blanched at that picture and nearly stumbled for forgetting to take a step. With her size, she could have done serious damage to his delicate wings. "Yes, sir."

L'ret watched her for quite a few steps; she definitely understood his concern, and was likely berating herself for her lack of foresight. "Don't fret, Mara. You did well yesterday."

"Thank you, sir, but I still need to remember that my condition affects Klamath."

"Yes, you do, but that is one reason dragonriders look out for each other." When she nodded, still unable to face him, he chuckled. "It's not very often I have to hold a weyrling _back_ from exploring limits. Most have to be pushed to come anywhere close."

Mara chuckled. "One of the . . . disadvantages . . . of being an older weyrling?"

Now L'ret laughed. "Hardly a disadvantage! But, you do need to stand back from those limits for a while, Mara. No one here will berate you for taking proper care of Klamath."

"Yes, sir. I'll remember that." She would definitely try to be more conscious of her condition from now on, but it was difficult; she had spent so many turns pushing herself to her physical limits, and slightly beyond.

As they reached the middle of the eastern wall, L'ret, looking straight ahead, asked, "Have you ever seen a sunrise from the top of a mountain?"

"No, sir." Mara welcomed the change of subject. Her weyrlingmaster seemed ready to move past another lapse of judgment, so she would willingly follow.

As Duranth glided to a graceful landing nearby, L'ret asked, "Is Klamath still sleeping?"

Mara consciously checked and found no change in Klamath's state of consciousness. "Yes, sir," she answered with reserved excitement.

"Come with me," he teased as he grinned.

L'ret climbed Duranth's riding straps with long-practiced ease and turned to offer Mara a hand. He was only slightly surprised to see her already halfway up his brown's side. When she was properly seated behind him, he shared his opinion. "You're very good at that."

"I've been on Normond a few times, sir."

"Ahh, yes." Now he turned to scowl at her. "And how _did_ you get to his back without straps?"

Mara flinched. He knew about her solitary flight from G'raden's weyr to the Living Cavern. "Umm, he helped, sir, quite a bit." She half smiled as she recalled Normond lifting her seated bulk with his muzzle. And nearly choked up as she realized how much longer it would be before she could spend time with Normond or his rider.

L'ret saw the smile, and the hurt, and chose to distract her with laughter. "Hold on."

As he turned forward, Mara grasped his thick belt, and noticed that her ever proper weyrlingmaster had not fastened himself to Duranth's riding straps. She was distracted from that somehow amusing thought as Duranth sat back on his haunches and spread his wings to their fullest.

The big brown jumped high into the air and immediately made a powerful down-stroke with his massive wings. Mara could feel the difference between Duranth and Normond. Duranth listed slightly to the left, though in her two sevendays at Benden Weyr, she had never noticed any problems with Duranth's flying. She dropped a hand to his back and confirmed that his left wing had been damaged. She also felt the slight pull of thickened ligaments at the joint between primary and secondary mainsails. Any pressure beyond first down-strokes would surely snap those weakened ligaments.

Duranth made several circuits of the bowl as he rose to a level above the Star Stones' plateau. During the first circuit, Mara's nose clamped shut; L'ret not only smelled of sweat from his run, but also of alcohol. She wondered if he drank regularly, and if so, why she hadn't noticed before this day.

_He only drinks to lessen the pain of losing weyrlings._ Duranth's tightly focused thought embarrassed his passenger.

_I should have realized that, Duranth. Thank you for setting me straight._ Mara scolded herself for letting such thoughts flow so freely. And now she understood L'ret's uncommon behavior.

_He's a good man. And a wonderful rider._

_Would you have chosen otherwise?_

_No. He is my rider._

Mara closed her eyes briefly at the love and pride Duranth was feeling for L'ret. As he reached his final circle around the bowl and crosswinds picked up slightly, she reopened her eyes . . . and gaped at the lovely colors in the sky surrounding Benden Weyr. There were very few clouds, but the intensity of pinks, oranges and darker blues and grays diminished dramatically from the western sky to the eastern as Rukbat just peaked over the horizon.

_You still fly very well, Duranth._

_I can't swerve properly anymore. My rider would be at risk if we were allowed to fly Thread._

_But you still serve the Weyr. You can be very proud of that, Duranth._

_We are._

Duranth landed quite neatly at one end of the plateau, opposite the end where the watch dragon and rider were seated.

L'ret offered Mara his arm to assist her dismount and was pleased that she used it, even if only as a token of appreciation. After his own dismount, L'ret walked behind Duranth where Mara had moved to see the majority of the sky. With a hand on her shoulder, he said, "This is why Duranth and I like to wake so early. Ever since our first early-morning watch duty."

"It's beautiful," responded Mara in a reverent tone. She had witnessed the rising of Rukbat before, of course, but always with trees or buildings blocking a full view of the horizon. With no trees this high on the sides of the extinct volcanoes that made up Benden Weyr, the view seemed endless in all directions.

Her awe-filled smile and sparkling eyes were a joy to witness, though L'ret did regretfully notice her glance and quickly averted gaze at a particular weyr on the other end of the bowl. He sighed, and let his hand drop from her shoulder. After one more view of her lovely smile, he turned toward Rukbat and closed his eyes.

Even after the most horrendous day with the weyrlings, L'ret knew that Rukbat would always rise the next morning. That constant was extremely comforting to a man who never knew what surprises awaited below; each new weyrling brought new challenges. Perhaps that - and Rukbat's constancy - was what made his position as weyrlingmaster bearable. L'ret, with Duranth's immeasurable aid, had been Benden Weyr's Weyrlingmaster for nearly five turns, the standard duration of such a posting, and one of very few to continue the duty for so long. Even fewer actually finished their five turn posting, and none in Benden's recorded history – though there were some poorly documented periods – had voluntarily served for more than five turns. L'ret, with full support of Duranth, intended to break that record and perhaps even double it; not out of any need for recognition, but for the sheer joy of seeing 'his' weyrlings graduate and survive their first turn in the fighting wings. Losing weyrlings, unfortunately, was to be expected even if it was difficult to live with.

L'ret and Duranth had always pushed themselves to be the best brown fighting pair – perhaps they pushed just a bit too hard that fateful day Duranth's wing was damaged – and they continued to push themselves to be the best non-fighting brown pair. As a weyrling, he had pushed himself further physically than he would ever permit one of 'his' weyrlings now. His early childhood training, like Mara's, had emphasized physical strengths far more than intellectual strengths. He would have to keep close watch on her, and remind her – probably constantly, since her training had gone far beyond childhood – that a dragonrider needed to pace themselves; she was, after all, only half of one living being now.

L'ret absentmindedly reached out to the big brown muzzle perched near the ground just behind his feet, and turned to give Duranth a proper knuckling along and under his jaw.

Duranth reluctantly bespoke his rider just as Mara did the same.

"Klamath and the others are stirring."

"Let's go then!"

They hurriedly mounted patient Duranth. L'ret had barely fastened his riding straps as Mara held tightly to his belt, when Duranth stepped off the plateau, wings spread.

The sudden and exhilarating drop forced a slightly nervous laugh from Mara while L'ret grinned with pleasure.

As Duranth glided to the other end of the bowl, Mara looked up and saw G'raden standing at the edge of his weyr, fists at his waist, next to Normond. Mara waved and had to look away to stop the tingle in her belly when he waved back.

Duranth landed with grace halfway between the weyrling barracks and the temporary weyrling's weyr. Mara ran one way while L'ret walked briskly the other direction.

Mara was thrilled to be back in the weyr before any of the dragons or their riders even had their eyes open. Mack, however, was wide awake and grinning while Bista apparently dozed on his shoulder. Mara wondered about the grin and then remembered his apparent joviality several mornings ago; maybe he was looking forward to more 'fun and games'?

"Good morning, Master Mack," said Mara quietly.

"Good morning, Brown Rider Mara," said Mekelroy with a wink.

Mara wasn't sure what to make of the wink, so merely nodded as she passed on her way to the dragon bed. She looked back once and was even more confused by his silent laughter.

She positioned herself to watch Klamath as he woke, and 'listened' to all that went through his mind, marveling at his innocent, cheerful excitement at the prospect of another sunny day. As his eyelids opened one at a time, she heard disbelief followed by joy at the sight of his rider smiling at him. His eyes swirled slowly with calm, bright blue.

_Mara!_

_Klamath!_

He stretched his neck carefully, fully aware of the closeness of Mynth and Nayrith. _Is this morning?_

This was his third morning, but the first time she had been with him. _Yes, it is, love. Isn't it beautiful?_ The weyr was brighter than earlier, but still heavily shaded, giving a slightly ethereal feeling.

_It looks . . . soft._

A little surprised, Mara looked up, and around the weyr. If she were to describe what she saw in tactile terms, she might describe dawn as fuzzy, where as night would be hard, and day would be . . . crisp? And fuzzy could very well be considered soft. How interesting, she thought, that Klamath would compare what he saw to what he might feel.

As the other four little dragons stirred, squirmed and finally rose to greet their riders, Klamath was exceedingly patient despite his incredible itching and desperate hunger. He waited until all four girl dragons had risen to pounce off the stone couch onto his rider.

Mara was prepared this time, and caught the growing brown in both arms. "Oh, Klamath! You are really growing! You're getting heavy!"

_Did I hurt you?_ His eyes showed some orange as his neck snaked around hers.

_No, you didn't hurt me, but maybe you shouldn't do that. You _are_ getting big!_

The truth of her words sank in as she squatted to return her lifemate to the floor with even more pops and twitches from her knees and hips. He was much heavier, and bigger.

Mara spot treated his itchy spots before they joined the other Istan weyrlings in the lake. The water was still warm from yesterday's summer sun even though they were in shadow from the ridges of the Weyr.

The girls talked and laughed, and admired each other's dragons as Mack watched from the dry shore, Bista still wrapped over his shoulders _between _in sleep.

After bathing and oiling, with token help from Mack, who was astonished at the size difference between Saraneth and three-day older Ayrieth, all the girls, except Mara, excused themselves to do their morning laps.

Mara walked quickly to the Healer's Cavern while L'ret's assistants organized a game of 'follow the golds', with permission of the two golds present, of course. L'terick and another assistant each led one of the golds around in circles, through the shallows of the lake, over small rises in the bowl floor, and even through the weyrling barracks as quietly as possible, one gold entering from each end. Dragonets' being quiet was nearly impossible, but served to wake the remaining late rising weyrlings, with a few quickly squelched complaints. The game came to a confusing stop when the two golds were led on intersecting paths. The dragonets did not understand the intent and quickly began playing their own bump and chase games. As the runners, and Mara, were returning, the new games were permitted with great joviality, until some of the little ones began fading from starvation.

Most of the dragonets were fed and safely bedded down near the lake when L'ret announced that the morning meal was ready. The newest weyrlings – except the late risers, who were still bathing, oiling or feeding – were ordered to form two lines, gold riders in front, others by dragon color ranging from bronze to green and age of their dragons, and marched to the Dining Cavern. Now that the youngest dragonets were on a more stable schedule, discipline training for their riders would intensify.

On the march, despite being very last in the brown section of the line, Mara overheard a whispered conversation from ahead. One of the bronze riders was rather upset that 'old weyrlings' didn't seem to be required to do morning laps like everyone else. He was mostly ignored though, except by another bronze rider who firmly said "Ssshhh!" Mara dropped her mental shields in an attempt to discover the disgruntled rider, but was met by angry or annoyed thoughts from most everyone ahead of her, and wasn't able to pick out the grumbler by his thoughts or his whispers.

Weyrlings were still permitted to sit where they chose at the weyrling tables during the meal. Brendeen and Teanna sat at the head table, of course, while Mara sat with the other girls from the Istan hatching in a position facing the serving tables. When G'raden returned to the tables for seconds, Mara turned to Angalyn and concentrated on her explanation to a blue rider of how she had come to be at Ista's Hatching. Mara was briefly torn on whether to 'listen' to the blue rider's intentions, and was greatly relieved to learn that he was merely making conversation, trying to get to know each of the new riders.

When all were finished eating, the weyrlings - except the late arrivals who were prompted to hurry – were marched back to the weyrling barracks and into classrooms based on their level of training.

Mara couldn't help smiling throughout the first class; this section on dragon care, dealing with various dragon ailments, was not one of those she had read from L'ret's neatly printed class transcripts, so it was all new to her. A short break allowed weyrlings to take care of personal needs and to check on their other halves.

The second class of the morning was held outside. It reinforced the marching exercises done the previous day and added some more complex maneuvers. Later, the class was split into two lines and each was marched around the southern end of the weyr in an apparently haphazard manner. Eventually the two lines were marched on an intersecting course. When confusion followed, L'ret called a halt to the exercise and explained the goal. The lines should be able to cross paths without any collisions _if spacing was maintained_. A group of mid-level weyrlings was called over from their drills to demonstrate the expected results. All the newest weyrlings were speechless as their seniors' lines wove in and out of each other again and again with nary a single collision.

As the more experienced weyrlings continued their maneuvers, lines weaving back and forth and around and through each other, L'ret addressed the newest weyrlings loudly. "Teamwork. Each member of the team knows his or her place, and his or her duty. If one member has to leave . . ."

One of the weyrlingmaster's assistants ordered a weyrling 'between'. The boy took a step sideways and crouched to the ground. Others moved forward to fill his empty space in a neat and orderly fashion.

L'ret continued, ". . . someone else assumes his duties. When that member can return . . ."

The assistant ordered the crouching weyrling to return to duty. The boy stood and took a position at the end of his line. With a simple phrase, he and the boy in front of him changed positions smartly. With a repetition of the phrase, he and the next weyrling changed positions. Moving thusly - and being careful with timing, to avoid changing positions while intersecting the other line – the boy who had gone 'between' finally returned to his original position. The moves were made so smoothly, no disruption of the maneuvers was noticeable to those watching.

L'ret continued speaking throughout the demonstration. ". . . he does so with respect and consideration for those who assumed his duties. Each team member needs to know the duties of all his other team members in the event he finds himself filling that position." After the boy had returned to his original position, the weyrlingmaster posed a question. "Now, what would happen if he had tried to return immediately to his position?"

As the lines continued weaving across each other's paths, several of the newest weyrlings' eyebrows went up. L'ret grinned, seeing that at least some were anticipating correctly. He yelled to his assistants, "Gentlemen?"

The same assistant ordered another weyrling – this one a bronze rider – to go 'between'. The remaining line moved forward to fill his position, with some careful delays at the cross over points. When the line was solid again, the assistant ordered the bronze rider to muck it up. The young man jumped to his feet and ran to his original position, through each of the weaving lines, knocking others off their balance as he went. When he reached his position, the weyrlings in his line stopped for just a step or two to permit his reentry, causing considerable confusion at the cross over points. The two lines eventually resumed their orderly marching, but with considerable grumbling and a bit of hopefully over-exaggerated limping.

The newest weyrlings exhibited a mixture of humorous amazement and true comprehension. L'ret took note of each weyrling's response; some were almost pale with realization while others giggled.

"Mara!"

"Yes, Weyrlingmaster." Mara was one of those who had gone pale.

"You seem rather bothered by this demonstration. Explain, please."

Quite a few weyrlings giggled, or laughed, or made rude comments. Mara tried to ignore them as she stared at L'ret. She was being asked to help teach by being made an example of again, she realized.

"Sir," she began with more confidence than a few moments ago, "aren't these marching drills supposed to be training us for flying in fighting wings?" When he nodded firmly, she continued. "Well, sir, if this," she motioned toward the marchers, "had happened during Threadfall . . ."

Much, but not all of the laughter stopped. L'ret feigned overstretched patience. "Yes?"

Mara didn't have to pretend shock, even though she was quite certain that L'ret understood. "How many riders and their dragons would have been scored by Thread because they were busy trying to figure out where to go?"

All laughter and giggling stopped at the mention of dragons being Threadscored. L'ret was fairly pleased. "Very good. And that is why we will practice these drills on ground until you can do them in your sleep. And we will also practice drills and formations with our dragons so they too will learn the importance of proper teamwork, beginning with proper spacing."

As a few of the smallest dragons began stirring, L'ret had the newest weyrlings reform their marching group, golds and bronzes in the lead, followed by browns, blues and then greens. Marching in reverse placed the greens in front. One bronze rider complained about that situation, but was laughed down by others around him, so quickly stopped complaining.

As a waking dragon required attention, the rider would step aside and let the others pass before running to tend his or her lifemate. As any urgent needs were cared for, the rider with dragon would return to the group at the back of the formation with no regard to dragon color. Only one bronze rider tried to return with his young Tagamarth to his original position, and caused a great deal of confusion.

As more and more dragons joined the group, the crowding became rather uncomfortable. Tails swaying for balance were getting kicked and even stepped on. There were considerable 'Sorry's, but no one seemed willing to suggest increasing the spacing. Klamath's tail was accidentally kicked more that once before Mara finally spoke up.

"Weyrlingmaster L'ret?"

L'ret called a halt to the marching and nearly growled. "Is there a problem, Weyrling?"

"Umm, yes sir. Perhaps, with the presence of so many beautiful long tails, we should spread out more, sir?"

"Why can't your dragons simply keep their tails out of the way?" When Mara opened her mouth to answer, he quickly added, "Someone else."

Cally spoke up, half giggling. "Because they use their tails for balance, sir. It would be like asking us to run with our hands in our pockets."

L'ret scowled at her with his well hidden wink. "And you couldn't run like that if you had to?"

"Oh, I could, sir, but it would be awkward, and I'd be much more likely to trip and get hurt."

L'ret surveyed the group, seemingly quite angry. "How many tails have been stepped on? Show your hands!" Two less than would have caused him to stop the exercise. "How many tails have been kicked?" Almost everyone raised their hands, sheepish looks on their faces. "And only big ol' Mara had the nerve to speak up?" He glared at each weyrling until they all looked at the ground. "YOU! Each of you! YOU are responsible for the care of your dragons!"

Brendeen almost squeaked, but L'ret witnessed a brief smile. "But you're the weyrlingmaster, sir, and you're so big!"

"I'm so big?" His extreme modulation caused a few snickers. "Does that make me more right?"

Several weyrlings responded with a sheepish "No, sir."

One rather insolent weyrling said, "You're supposed to be training us!"

"That's right, Weyrling B'rand. I am training you to care for your dragons, but _you _need to learn to stand up for yourselves _and for your dragons_! I expect each and every one of you to be able to stand up to me if your dragon might be in any danger. Understood?"

Several weak and a few stronger responses of "Yes, sir," caused L'ret to squint in disgust.

"That was pitiful! You will stand up for your dragons! Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir!" Most weyrlings responded this time, much louder than earlier.

"But you're so big . . . and scary." Brendeen's act was all too transparent to all but the more dense weyrlings. This was obviously pre-planned.

L'ret glared at the gold rider – who had slight trouble keeping up her 'scared' act – and turned away from the assembled group. He called to a small group of near graduates who just happened to be strolling by. A very large brown rider, a bronze rider nearly as large, and a very petite female green rider approached. They marched to within two paces of the weyrlingmaster, stopped smartly, and snapped to attention, all saying in unison, "Weyrlingmaster."

"Weyrlings." L'ret nodded and then took a menacing step toward the green rider. Fists on his belt, he growled, "Weyrling Griella."

"Yes, sir!" She never flinched as she glared back at her weyrlingmaster.

"Are you afraid of me, little green rider?" L'ret sounded unusually taunting.

Griella squared her shoulders and grimaced slightly. "No, sir!"

L'ret puffed up even more, but feigned a rather squeaky voice, apparently trying to imitate Brendeen. "But, I'm so big!"

Griella had considerable trouble schooling her expression; her eyes went wide as her mouth twitched and her chest convulsed with repressed laughter. She finally managed with a grin, "Yes, sir, but you're also a bit slower than me, and a little bit older, and . . . you don't scare me, sir." She finally broke out into a full blown, beautiful smile.

L'ret grunted, which only caused more convulsions in the little rider. Then, to all the weyrlings' shocked surprise, L'ret reached out suddenly and tried to slap the green rider.

Still smiling, Griella simply ducked his swing. As L'ret struggled a bit to regain his balance, she stood up straight and continued smiling.

L'ret grunted again, sounding rather annoyed. "Are you as fearless with these big, strong, younger men?" He nodded in the direction of the brown and bronze weyrlings.

"I respect their size, and their strength, sir, but I don't fear them."

"Demonstrate."

Griella grinned, and shivered a bit in excitement. "Yes, sir." She turned to face her companions, who each rolled their eyes, but smiled, accepting her grinned challenge.

L'ret had the newest weyrlings spread out in a circle around what would be the sparring area. He stood inside the circle to referee if necessary. Griella drew quite a few cheers with her bobbing, weaving, ducking and rolling as she repeatedly avoided the grabs of the two much larger weyrlings. When she was caught by one, due to distraction from the other, a few quick jabs or chops or well aimed kicks convinced her holder to release his grip. Only a few of the young male weyrlings urged Griella's 'attackers' on.

L'ret took note of each weyrlings' reactions to the sparring match and also noted the signs of distress in many of the dragonets. He finally called a halt to the demonstration and thanked each of the weyrlings with a handshake, except for Griella. Grinning, he held out his hand, but pulled it back as she reached for it, and held both hands up as if to ward off an attack from the tiny green rider.

After forming the newer weyrlings back into a marching group, L'ret informed them that dragonriders fear nothing. Smart dragonriders respect the abilities and strengths of others, including Thread, but they do not fear; they use those abilities, strengths, and tendencies against any attackers. He also informed them that they would each learn self-defense on an individual level and on a team level. Dragonriders stood up for each other as well as for their dragons. When asked when they would be able to start self defense lessons, L'ret reminded them that first, their dragons had to be comfortable with the idea of practice fighting.

Spacing was increased to allow for long tails, and L'ret ordered everyone to remember their positions. These would be their positions in this rectangular formation for the remainder of their training. They were informed that this was one of many formations they would learn and would be referred to as the 'marching formation'.

As more and more little dragons displayed their hunger, through being distracted, or the color of their eyes, or by simply refusing to continue without food, L'ret called a halt to the exercise.

Dragonets were fed and bedded down near the lake before the weyrlings were again ordered into marching formation, with decreased spacing, and marched to the Dining Cavern.

The newest class of weyrlings enjoyed midday meal. Most, with the exception of Mara and a few others, seemed oblivious to the hushed and reflective mood of nearly everyone else in the Cavern. Mara very quickly had to defer several questions on the dragon ailment class to L'ret or his assistants, declaring that while she could 'feel' what a dragon felt, she didn't know all the proper words yet, or even what the feelings might indicate.

Most of the seasoned riders, Mara noticed, were still reviewing the previous day's disastrous Fall, considering options for dealing with such unpredictable weather systems, or mourning friends, colleagues, or lovers. The weyrleaders seemed exceptionally pensive, eating slowly as they simply observed those whose welfare was entrusted to them.

A welcoming bugle from the watch dragon silenced everyone, and caused the weyrleaders to glance at each other before leaving their partially eaten meals. On their way out of the dining cavern, they stopped to have a word with L'ret, and then stopped behind Mara's chair.

"Weyrling Mara." F'lar sounded so stern, the other weyrlings stared in shock at the big woman addressed.

"Yes, Weyrleader." Mara turned in her chair to look up at him, a bit confused.

"Join us," was all the tall man said before turning to leave.

"Please," added Lessa, which caused a few sharp intakes of breath from the other weyrlings.

Mara smiled, quite self-conscious of such courtesy in front of her classmates. "Of course, Weyrwoman." She stood as soon as Lessa backed away a step, and followed her outside.

The big weyrling's smile grew much wider when she saw the dragon who had just landed near Ramoth's weyr.

_Reyuth! Welcome back!_

* * *

I get the feeling - due to lack of reviews (should delete this addendum now that Slytherinsal has found this story :) ) - that my writing is slipping.

I know this story isn't very exciting - yet - but I'm trying to delve into the personality changes that might take place during weyrling training, at least where Mara is concerned.

All reviews are greatly appreciated, even if I don't answer all of them. Does that bother you? Let me know, please.


	15. Not So Normal, But Close

Still don't own Dragonriders of Pern. Shards!

* * *

_I . . . we wish we could stay._ Bronze Reyuth sounded so terribly fatigued. As he turned to face south, his tone brightened somewhat. _He'll be all right, Gredarth. He's never been _between_ before. My rider says he'll be fine. Let him calm down._

Mara overheard the calming words meant for the little blue dragon whose claws sank deep into the bronze's neck, his eyes whirling with orange and yellow.

F'lar caught the frightened young man Wingleader T'men lowered down Reyuth's left side. He pretended not to notice the state of the youngster's trousers, deftly easing him down without getting too close. Trying to smile reassuringly, he asked, "Your first flight a dragonback?"

The young man, not even coming to F'lar's shoulders, seemed to deflate even further as his feet touched the ground. "Yes, sir." He hung his head in shame as he tried to hide the large wet spot with hopelessly small hands outstretched.

F'lar chuckled kindly and grasped the boy by the shoulders, shaking slightly. "Nothing to be ashamed of lad. It happens to more than you'll ever know the first time _between_."

"Even weyrbred, sir?" The young man dared to glance up.

Now F'lar laughed. "Especially weyrbred, as they are usually taken up at a much younger age."

"But, I'm fourteen." The boy rolled his eyes, even more embarrassed.

F'lar laughed again. "Even some men my age suffer this condition the first time _between_."

"Really?"

F'lar affected a surprised expression. "Would I tell you a falsehood, boy?"

The boy's eyes went wide with something between fear and concern. "Of course not, sir! I . . . just . . ."

"You just spoke before thinking?"

"Ah, yes, sir."

F'lar nodded decisively. "Understood. You'll need to work to avoid that tendency."

"Yes, sir. I will, sir."

L'ret and L'terick had approached and were standing on either side of Lessa and Mara. As soon as F'lar stood back, L'ret walked rather impolitely in front of Mara and Lessa, blocking their view of the new arrival. L'terick joined him, nodding an apology at his weyrwoman.

Lessa took Mara by the hand and led her around to Reyuth's other side. _The boy's wet himself, so we'll let the men deal with it._ She looked sternly up into Mara's face. _This is never to be mentioned to anyone!_

_Understood, Weyrwoman. And quite understandable, poor thing._

_What are you hearing from these two, Mara?_

As Mara took a breath to organize her answer, L'terick appeared from Reyuth's hidden side running toward the living caverns.

_Gredarth is upset because he can't hear his rider. He was afraid he'd been lost _between_. And his rider . . . he's . . . confused, and scared, and embarrassed; his mind is spinning in all directions. He's trying to reach Gredarth, but . . . his thoughts are so confused._

_T'men says that D'don has been able to converse with Gredarth, but only sometimes. He wants to do his best by Gredarth despite the circumstances that placed him on the Hatching Sands. _Lessa stopped walking at a point near Reyuth's big head but far enough away that she didn't have to strain her neck to look up at the little, off-color blue. _We hope you can help them, Mara. I can hear Gredarth, of course, but not D'don. _She turned her head toward the big weyrling beside her.

Mara nodded understanding, but lost focus of her eyes as she 'listened' more closely to D'don. _Perhaps it's easier for them to talk when he's not so frightened, and confused?_

Lessa smiled, not quite convincingly. _We can hope so, dear._

Both women were pelted with sand and dust as Quinteth landed close to Reyuth's head.

"Our apologies, Ladies." L'terick slid from the blue's back and gave a quick bow before disappearing behind Reyuth with a small bundle under one arm.

Lessa bit back a chuckle as she nodded at an extremely embarrassed blue dragon. "It's all right, Quinteth. All in the line of duty."

Two of the blue's eyelids closed in relief. When they reopened, the eyes revealed spinning green shot with blue. He nodded appreciatively before turning back to his rider.

Lessa and Mara stood watching the tiny blue as he hung his head down the other side of Reyuth's neck, unwilling to lose sight of his rider, and held firmly in place by T'men. They spoke quietly about the stress loosing contact with one's rider could cause a dragon, particularly one so very young, until L'terick returned.

The blue rider carried a thick plastic bag with two carry-straps – something Mara had never seen before, but which Lessa recognized as one of Master Hamian's recent contributions to the shoppers of Pern. He stayed out of sight of the living cavern as he addressed Lessa. "I'll just take care of these and ask Mack to bring some meat and oil for Gredarth."

"Thank you L'terick," said Lessa most graciously. She then took Mara's hand again and led her out beyond Reyuth's massive head. "We'll watch from here as Mnementh unloads Gredarth."

As they reached Lessa's chosen vantage point, F'lar and L'ret emerged from Reyuth's other side, a young man between them. L'ret moved his hand behind the boy, apparently running knuckles along his spine as the boy quickly stood taller and faced the women they were approaching.

"Weyrwoman Lessa," began L'ret. "May I introduce D'don, rider of blue Gredarth, most recently from Ista Weyr?"

Lessa turned on all her charm for the young man, trying to alleviate his embarrassment. She offered a handshake as she spoke. "Welcome to Benden Weyr, D'don, rider of blue Gredarth."

D'don's jaw had dropped at the mention of her name. He meekly shook her hand. "It's an honor to meet you Lady Lessa. I've heard so much about you, but . . ." He clamped his mouth shut as his face turned red.

"But what, young man?" Lessa's charm faded slightly.

Mara bit her tongue to keep from laughing. D'don had been about to mention her lack of height, but frantically changed tactics before answering.

"You're so beautiful!" His face turned even darker as he kicked himself mentally.

Lessa laughed. "I think charm must be the primary personality trait blue hatchlings seek on the sands." She pulled the boy toward her, turning him toward Reyuth as she winked at F'lar, and laid an arm across shoulders no wider than her own. "Let's watch how Mnementh gets Gredarth to the ground, shall we?"

They all watched as Mnementh leaned back on his haunches, walked forward on two hind legs, and gently lifted the now unstrapped little blue from Reyuth's neck. As Gredarth let go of Reyuth, the bronze moved aside, around and to his haunches to lend extra support. Mnementh didn't need help, but the look on D'don's face suggested worry for the safety of his new lifemate.

Lessa had been watching D'don, and had requested Reyuth's extra assistance. Now she gripped the boy's arm gently. "He's perfectly safe, D'don."

"They're so big." The boy never looked away from the unloading operation.

"You're not afraid of dragons, are you?" asked Lessa.

Now D'don looked at Lessa, surprised and again embarrassed. "No, ma'am, but I've never been so close to them before the hatching. And Barnath . . . he did scare me."

"Barnath was even more frightened than you, I'd wager. He was desperate, you see, to allow his mate's hatchlings to find their riders." When the boy nodded, though he had returned to watching Gredarth's descent to the ground, Lessa continued. "Barnath was heartsick about hurting a human."

His blue now on the ground, D'don searched Lessa's face. "Really?" A very loud throat clearing from F'lar caused his eyes to nearly pop out of his head. "I mean, I didn't know that dragons could feel heartsick."

"Really?" Lessa winked at the boy. "Well, I suppose we have a lot to teach you, then." Smiling, she released her hold on the boy and gently pushed him toward Gredarth.

Boy and dragon met halfway, arms wrapped around each other and one neck stretched almost to the boy's waist. D'don crooned reassurances of their safety as Gredarth hummed to D'don.

Lessa looked up at Mara. "Are they . . ." she pointed a finger alternately at her head and then at Mara's.

Mara pursed her lips into a tight smile and shook her head.

T'men, after stopping to speak quietly to D'don, walked toward the weyrleaders, weyrlingmaster and weyrling, his smile all too obviously forced. He walked rather stiffly, as if fighting to maintain his balance. As he came closer, Mara noticed dark circles under his bloodshot, dull blue eyes.

L'ret grunted at the sight of the Wingleader's condition, and Lessa moved to place a hand on his arm as the bronze rider officially greeted F'lar.

"Weyrleader F'lar, Weyrwoman Lessa. Weyrleader G'dened . . . appreciates your help with this young pair."

"Really!" Lessa earned a scowl from F'lar.

T'men's smile became more relaxed. "In reality, he would have preferred you take some of the bigger problems, but we convinced him otherwise. We're still weeding out Toric's supporters, and they've already done some damage to the most hopeful pairs."

Mara was asked to see to the newest arrivals, so didn't officially hear L'ret's, F'lar's and Lessa's lectures on how a wingleader needed to take care of himself. She also didn't officially hear that T'men was setting a bad example for other, highly ambitious riders and weyrlings. And she didn't officially hear T'men reluctantly promise to get some sleep after delivering the remaining two hopeful pairs, or F'lar's insistence that he and Mnementh would accompany and assist them. She did, however, officially hear the three men debating, as they came closer, who would carry little Gredarth up the steps to the weyrwoman's suites.

"Do you know how to climb steps, Gredarth?" asked the oldest weyrling.

Both D'don and Gredarth looked at the long set of stairs leading up to the ledge where Ramoth sat watching. D'don's jaw fell as Gredarth's eyes grew more yellow.

_No,_ answered the little blue.

"May I carry you then?"

Both rider and dragon nodded their heads, a little worried, but more afraid of attempting that long climb.

As the men drew nearer, still debating the merits of experience, strength, age and wakefulness, Mara coached Gredarth into a position comfortable for all three and stood to meet the others.

The debate stopped as Mara, Gredarth in her arms, neck wrapped around hers, tail wrapped around her waist, and D'don's hand on the dragon's tail, turned to meet the men and Lessa.

Lessa's grin held a vengeful undertone as she took D'don's free hand. "Let's go, then."

Three scowls prompted Mara to explain as she passed. "He's not as heavy or as big as Klamath."

As they began the ascent to Lessa's weyr, D'don couldn't hold back a question. "Klamath, the brown?"

"That's him." Mara grinned at the boy.

Lessa laughed. "Ramoth says sometimes he's bronze."

D'don's jaw dropped yet again as he, not too discreetly, studied the woman carrying Gredarth. "But . . ." A tug from Lessa closed his mouth.

"The dragons choose, and we accept. Come along. Gredarth is hungry and we need to talk."

D'don shrank back as they topped the steps and Ramoth turned her head to greet her rider. Lessa reached high to give her an affectionate pat between the eyes as she passed. Mara bent her knees slightly and introduced Gredarth and his rider, who L'ret had to push from behind Mara. D'don's jaw dropped yet again when big Ramoth touched the tip of her muzzle to the top of Gredarth's head.

L'ret and T'men went to the Council Chambers to retrieve a few chairs as F'lar went to the inner weyr to retrieve a tall backed, well padded chair and a footstool, which T'men was ordered to occupy.

Once the men were all seated, Lessa disappeared into the inner weyr and returned with a thick, braided, washable rug and a large bowl of water. She sat these near Ramoth's couch just as Mekelroy entered the weyr with two buckets, rags hanging from one.

A tray of food and one of mugs was delivered with a skin of wine and pitchers of klah and juice while Mara and D'don discussed whether Gredarth needed food or oil first.

Lessa looked at the tray of mugs with disgust. "There must be some new drudges in the kitchen." She lifted the tray and stomped back to the inner weyr. "These are filthy."

After the weyrlings decided that a little bit of meat should proceed a full oiling, L'ret excused himself, declaring he had other duties and that he expected a full report from Weyrling Mara later this day.

Lessa returned and poured wine for each of the men – except for T'men who insisted he needed the klah – and wine for herself. She then offered each of the weyrlings a tall mug of juice.

After Gredarth's eyes were carefully oiled, F'lar, Lessa and Mekelroy began gently questioning D'don. He was so involved in oiling his blue, and they were so gentle with their questions, he never realized how much valuable information he imparted to them.

D'don's sire, Dorravan, had been the steward of a small, prosperous holding in Fort Hold, working for an opportunity to acquire a holding for himself and his family. As Lord Holder Groghe had more and more children, and then grandchildren, Dorravan had lost hope of ever fulfilling his dreams of holding for his children, until he met one of Toric's recruiters. He and his wife had been convinced that moving to Southern Hold was the only way their family would ever hold anything, much less anything of value.

Dorravan had given proper notice to his less than pleased Holder, and packed his family up for a sail to Southern Hold. It wasn't until he saw the condition of the ship, which was docked at an out of the way, very old and poorly maintained dock, and the condition of the accommodations, which he had paid dearly for, that he suspected any problems. On arriving at Southern Hold and being squeezed into a poorly maintained cot at the edge of the Hold, he and his wife began asking questions, especially of anyone returning north. Through numerous meetings held in secret, for fear of retribution from Lord Toric, the couple had learned enough to feel more confident in holding on the Southern Continent. While waiting for Toric's people to 'prepare' their holding, they also acquired considerable supplies that Toric's people quite often failed to mention to new recruits. As D'don's mother had some healer training, she also learned, through casual discussions with other healers, which healing herbs she should collect and horde for her family's future needs. As their permitted baggage was limited, they had been forced to remove less necessary items – such as extra clothing, personal mementos, and long favored toys – to be replaced with more vitally important items.

When Dorravan's family and several others were dumped unceremoniously on the western bank of Island River and told to follow a path, without being given their papers detailing their holdings, Dorravan was furious. As the others seemed more frightened than angry at their treatment, he had taken charge and organized the men to search for their holdings. The path had led to a group of single room, poorly constructed stone cots in a partially cleared, but already overgrown patch of forest.

Toric's men didn't return for a full Turn, and seemed quite surprised that the small community had actually prospered. Very soon afterwards, Toric began making demands of Dorravan and the others; demands for produce and marks. The community had managed to fashion a suitable raft and had been trading services and produce with another group of holders further up river, but none had any access to gathers or larger holds, so none had any marks, except what they had managed to keep out of Toric's pouch at Southern Hold, which of course, they refused to even acknowledge. So Toric began demanding labor to build more small cot holds, and fosterlings to be 'properly' trained at Southern Hold.

When Toric demanded boys between the ages of twelve and fifteen for an upcoming dragon hatching, D'don, then Darradon, had begged his father to let him go, having always been impressed with stories of dragonriders, and still remembering Fort Weyr dragons flying high overhead.

"I don't suppose I would've ever been searched." D'don stroked Gredarth with an oiled rag as he more or less talked to himself.

"Why would you think such a thing, D'don?" asked Lessa gently.

"I don't hear Gredarth like riders are supposed to."

Lessa looked almost desperately to Mara; she could not find a reason to dispute his statement.

Mara took her meaning and offered, "But, you do hear him sometimes, don't you? And he hears you?"

"Sometimes." D'don nodded slowly.

"Then, we just need to work from there. When do you hear Gredarth?"

"Usually when I'm just about to fall asleep, or when I first wake up."

"When you're most relaxed?" asked Mara.

D'don stopped oiling and studied the big woman, realization dawning. "Yeah." He almost smiled.

F'lar – seeing a possible correlation between relaxation and control of the output from one's mouth – offered, "Relaxation might solve many problems, young man."

D'don turned his open mouth to F'lar, about to ask a question, but wisely clamped his lips shut, curving them into a smile as he blushed and nodded. "Yes, sir."

F'lar was about to commend the boy on his quick learning, when T'men's head fell to his side and he let out a snore that startled everyone, including himself it seemed. Even Ramoth let out a bit of a grunt as she turned and entered her weyr. Everyone chuckled as T'men, sound asleep, resettled his head to a quieter position. Ramoth huffed as she settled onto her big stone couch.

F'lar motioned for Mekelroy to help him readjust the high backed chair – the woodcrafter he had purchased it from had called it a reclining chair – until the back was almost horizontal to the floor. Lessa went to the inner weyr and returned with a pillow and a light woven blanket while D'don questioned Mara about the big gold dragon lounging close enough to touch.

"Did she laugh?" he asked with wide eyes trying to view the entire big queen.

"Dragons feel much the same things we do. But, they don't remember as much." When Ramoth turned an orange tinted eye toward Mara, she quickly corrected her statement. "Except Ramoth! Queens have much better memories than other dragons." Ramoth's eyelids closed partway as the orange disappeared.

"Why'd her eye turn orange?"

T'men settled, Lessa had resumed her seat near the weyrlings. "Did you learn anything at Ista Weyr?" She looked and sounded merely curious, but an undertone hinted that she was rather angry.

D'don blushed and rubbed Gredarth's neck. "I learned that blues are the second lowest of all the dragons."

Lessa straightened in her chair and raised her chin. "Blues are actually third lowest in fighting formations." The boy's astonished look prompted more. "Queens fly closest to the ground. Greens are the golds' last defense against Thread, and blues do their best to protect the greens, the golds, and the land, as do the browns and bronzes. Each dragon has their place in the fight against Thread, and none are any less valuable than any other."

To his credit, D'don thought about what she said before smiling warmly. "Thank you, Weyrwoman Lessa."

While D'don fed Gredarth the remaining contents of the meat bucket, Lessa, F'lar and Mekelroy questioned him on what training he had received at Ista Weyr. They not only learned that training had been severely disrupted by Toric's chosen ones, and Toric himself on at least two occasions, but details about each of the troublemakers, and Toric's expectations for those he had favored with this opportunity. They also learned which seasoned riders were most helpful, and which ones tended to undermine the serious weyrlings at every opportunity. D'don wasn't even aware that he was tattling, so consumed was he with feeding Gredarth.

As Gredarth's eyelids began to close, Ramoth rumbled gently. Gredarth stretched his neck up to touch muzzles with her.

Lessa, smiling beautifully, explained. "Ramoth says that her ledge is warm with sun now. She asks if Gredarth would like to join her for a nap."

D'don looked from Lessa to Ramoth to Mara and then to Gredarth. "Gredarth?" He might not understand the meaning of a dragon's eye coloring, but he fully understood the pleading look in his little blue's eyes and the set of his head. The rider laughed as he rubbed his blue's cheeks. "All right. The sun would feel good, wouldn't it?"

Ramoth hummed as she stood, turned carefully, and walked regally out to her ledge, where she settled down with forearms crossed to form a perfect dragonet cradle.

Lessa urged D'don to follow Gredarth as F'lar and Mekelroy carried chairs outside. Mara, once she was able to stand straight – she wondered how long she would be reminded of the Keroon Gather – followed with a small table laden with food and drinks.

Gredarth eagerly climbed into Ramoth's arms as D'don watched in near horror. Ramoth was so big and Gredarth was so small, but Ramoth's humming eventually served to calm the young man as he realized that mothers of all species are usually considerably larger than their offspring. Ramoth wasn't Gredarth's dam, but she was certainly acting like a foster mother. And if blues were indeed just as valuable as any other dragon, surely she would protect him with her immense bulk.

When the little blue had circled and found the perfect position in the crook of one of Ramoth's arms, the gold craned her neck to look at the young rider. She then crooked her neck until she touched her muzzle to the space still open between her arms and next to Gredarth.

D'don wasn't sure he was catching her intent so looked to Lessa.

Lessa, still smiling, gently led him around the folded arms for an inspection of the situation. "There," she pointed. "That's the perfect spot for you to take a nap." She pointed out exactly where he could sit on Ramoth's curled paw, lean back, and rest his head. When he still didn't seem too sure, she coaxed with, "I often sleep right there. My Ramoth creates the most comfortable bed I've ever known. And she requests that _you_ give Gredarth company."

D'don, afraid to refuse a weyrwoman's and her queen's hospitality, and feeling rather fatigued, carefully rolled over Ramoth's massive forearm, apologizing profusely when he stepped on her paw.

Ramoth huffed as Lessa laughed. "It would be difficult to hurt my dear Ramoth."

Ramoth crooned just loud enough to cover the human's discussion at the far edge of her ledge. When boy and dragonet were lost _between_ in sleep, she craned her neck toward the others and rested her muzzle on the warm rock.

F'lar and Lessa had been discussing special needs for this blue pair. Early bonding required constant contact. If mental contact wasn't as strong as it could be – they both smiled at Mara, much to her relief – physical contact was required. So it was determined that D'don and Gredarth should be within touching distance of each other until their mental connection became stronger. All assumed, at least in the presence of each other, that occasional connection implied the possibility of constant connection.

Mara was excused to continue with her training and told she would be contacted when the pair was about to wake. She would be tasked with catching this pair up with the other weyrling's training and with monitoring – F'lar lay a finger on his temple – and reporting their progress.

As Mara walked down the steps, empty meat bucket swinging, she heard the name Toric mentioned several times, and wished she could listen to that conversation. The man must think quite highly of himself to select candidates for impression without the aid of a search dragon, she thought as she walked toward the weyrling barracks. If D'don, poor thing, was an example of one of the 'hopeful' pairings, Toric hadn't lived up to his own expectations, and Mara wondered how he felt about himself now, after such a disastrous hatching.

A bit more than halfway to the barracks, Mara's thoughts were distracted by a repetitive banging. She walked a little faster, nearly running, until she realized the noises came from the weyr she shared with Cally and Angalyn. She slowed down and stayed near the wall as she approached; whatever was being hit was being hit hard, and repeatedly.

A peak around the corner caused both eyebrows to climb her forehead. Several riders and several weyrmen were building a wall in the outer weyr. As she walked inside, an older man – the same one who had explained the library shelving to T'men – greeted her, a leaf of paper in his hands.

"Ach, we were told you wouldn't return till just before evening meal."

"I was just passing by, and heard the noise. What is this?"

The man shrugged even as his chest puffed with pride. "A bunch of us heard there'd be a fourth weyrling in here, so we thought as how's you're all holdbred, more or less, maybe you'd 'preciate a bit of privacy."

A rather distinctive bass voice sounded from behind the wall. "It was my idea." Wingleader G'regg, with an enormous grin, peaked around the slab of lumber he was balancing.

A unanimous "Was not!" resounded from each of the other men in the weyr. The man with the paper spoke last. "T'wasn't, but he did mention the possible problems what might come of the situation."

"That I believe," declared Mara as G'regg winked at her.

The other men had quite a laugh at how quickly this weyrling was learning all about this particular bronze rider, and began teasing mercilessly. G'regg took the teasing in stride as the older man explained the drawing in his hands and how the wall sections would afford everyone with at least some privacy – unless they crawled onto the dragon couch – even as various persons walked back and forth through the inner and outer weyrs. He made a point though, of telling her that they would have to come up with some way of announcing themselves to whoever might be in the back weyr or the necessary; his eyes went wide and darted a bit at the last.

Mara thanked each man personally for his kind thoughtfulness, especially the man with the plan in his hand, much to his delight. She squinted at G'regg though, before thanking him for planting the seed of the idea. G'regg, quite comically, grinned and puffed up with mock pride at the praise, but nearly lost hold of the wall section and earned reprimands from all the other men.

Mara chuckled as she left them to their work and was still smiling when she entered the classroom occupied by her fellow new weyrlings.

While the dragon healer finished answering a question on hide condition, L'ret met Mara at the door. "All settled?" Even his attempted whisper caused a few heads to turn, earning the curious ones a ferocious scowl.

"Yes, sir. They're resting comfortably." Her smile grew as she recalled the pair cradled in Ramoth's arms.

"Do you have any objection to this special assignment?"

"No, sir! I only hope I can help them."

L'ret, not wanting to offer any false hope, simply harrumphed. "You've missed nearly all of this class. You'll have to catch up in your free time." When the big smiling woman nodded, he added, "I'll loan you all the transcripts up to this point, and Cally and Angalyn can probably help with this afternoon's lesson. One of us," he tapped his shoulder knots, "will always be available for any questions you or the boy – any of your current weyrmates – might have."

"Thank you, sir."

At her weyrlingmaster's direction, Mara took a seat and listened attentively to the last quarter candle-mark of questions from weyrlings about their little dragons' health. Mara was aware that one of the very first classes – based on L'ret's class transcripts – had dealt with some of the very issues being discussed now. Had the three day senior weyrlings missed this class for some reason, she wondered, or did the subject matter have more importance now that their dragons were older and had actually experienced some of the conditions being discussed? Or perhaps the class would be repeated for emphasis? Or perhaps these questions had nothing to do with what was actually taught this day? Mara decided she would find out soon enough when she talked to Cally.

A short break was followed by more discussion on a casual walk to the Healer's Caverns. Part of the class was dispatched to the dragon caverns and part to the human healer caverns, where they helped with bathing, oiling dragons, administering numbweed, and various fetching duties. Weyrlings were permitted and even encouraged to ask questions; most, but not all of the injured riders were quite amenable to talking about their injuries, or being talked about.

As a young dragon woke up, his or her rider would be excused. The Istan dragons, being a few days younger, were the last to wake, so Cally received a bit of extra attention from the healers who were more than willing to share their knowledge and experiences. Mara and Angalyn spent the extra time with the dragons; Angalyn helped oil a big brown while Mara comforted a little green whose rider, in a cot nearby, drifted in and out of consciousness.

When Mynth woke up, all three girls were excused – the healers were well aware that they stuck together, and knew the reasons. One big and two small weyrlings ran and walked, at Mara's best pace, to the lake and were met partway by a bouncing green. After some emergency spot oiling, the three dragons with their riders visited the weyrling dragons' necessary before joining in the movement exercises.

The weyrlings were drilled again in both group marching and line marching. Intersecting lines still caused a bit of a free-for-all, but was not taken so lightly this afternoon. Lines were reformed and moved at a much slower pace to give riders and dragons the experience of proper movement within their lines through another line. Dragons and riders began understanding the concentration needed to accomplish the goal of moving on command without collisions.

_Mara?_

_Yes, Ramoth._

_Gredarth and his rider are about to wake._

* * *

Oh, dear Faranth! I don't believe all the details that keep coming to mind. And you wouldn't believe all the details that I've been paraphrasing in the hopes of completing this story in my lifetime! If there's anything I gloss over too much, let me know – maybe I can work in more detail in later chapters – not that I have everything worked out, but I'll try.


	16. Welcome, D'don!

Thank you! to all those who have reviewed, especially all who reviewed a couple of chapters ago when I was feeling so very insecure. I'm still feeling a bit guilty about the slow progress, and the low action level in this, but there is a bit of excitement coming up very soon - nothing like hatching day, but . . .

Oh, yeah, Pern is all mine, but only in my mind. Anne McCaffrey created it - I play with it . . . far too much.

* * *

_I'm on my way, Ramoth. May I bring Klamath up the steps, or would you prefer he stay below?_

_Klamath is always welcome in my weyr._ The queen sounded almost insulted by the question._ Gredarth will be hungry._

_We'll be there shortly, Ramoth._

Mara caught the attention of L'terick, who was commanding her line of marching weyrlings, and pointed a thumb to the north. Without hesitation, L'terick ordered her to go _between. _As Mara and Klamath stepped aside from their line and found their way toward the barracks, L'terick turned the line of new weyrlings over to another assistant to join them.

"Ramoth says Gredarth needs meat," said Mara. "Will you please open the cold storage room for us?"

"Of course. You might as well take a bucket for Klamath."

Klamath, not quite starved yet, but always ready to eat, bounced between his big rider and the blue rider. _I can carry one of the buckets!_

L'terick laughed, eyes sparkling at the little brown including him in his declaration. "I have no doubt, Klamath! But you should hurry to Ramoth's weyr, so perhaps you should let Mara carry them both this day." He didn't mention his worry that the bucket handle might hurt the little one's still small teeth.

A bucket of meat in each hand, Mara followed her bouncing brown north along the eastern wall. Long before they reached the midpoint though, Klamath had stopped bouncing and merely waddled, repeatedly looking back at Mara and forward to Ramoth's weyr. Halfway from the midpoint to their destination, Klamath's eyes began to look worried as he grew more and more tired, and hungry.

_Are you tired, my love?_

_Yes._ The little brown sounded defeated. _I think I can make it all the way though._

_Would you like me to carry you, sweet heart?_

Klamath dropped his hind quarters to the ground and hung his head. _Why can't I walk that far?_

_I think you could if we hadn't done so much marching._ Mara set down the buckets and knelt in front of Klamath.

_You're not tired._

Mara put a hand on either side of his head and lifted his muzzle. _My muscles have had lots of practice, Klamath. Very soon, though, your muscles will be even stronger than mine. And someday, you will be strong enough to carry me. In the air!_

_But not yet._

_You're three days old, my love. Be patient. Good things take time._

Mischief colored the little brown's swirling eyes. _So, you carry me now, and very soon I will carry you. For the rest of our lives?_

Mara laughed. _That doesn't sound fair, does it?_

Klamath sat up on his haunches, forearms reaching out, ready for a lift. _It sounds wonderful! Let's go!_

Mara lifted Klamath – it was not as easy as a day or two earlier. Klamath wrapped long hind legs partway around her waist and front arm-like legs over her shoulders. His neck wrapped around hers so his head could face forward. His tail stretched around her waist and up her back to loop over her shoulder under his neck. The combined effort meant little strain on the arm supporting his hind quarters, though his increasing weight had a noticeable effect on Mara's back and legs, but far less than she felt she could manage.

On her way up, Mara grabbed both bucket handles in her free hand. _You're growing so fast, my smart little brown, I won't be able to carry you much longer._

_But, as I grow, I'll be able to walk farther, so we can still stay close._

_That's right!_

The remaining walk didn't take long and they were soon at the foot of the long stretch of stone stairs. T'men bounced down, obviously well rested now, and took the buckets from the weyrling.

With a hand on her lower back, the bronze rider escorted the brown rider and her dragon up the stairs to Ramoth's ledge. "He's getting a little big for this, don't you think?"

"In a couple of days, I won't be able to lift him, he's growing so fast."

_Quiet. Please wait on the steps._

T'men and Mara looked at each other and smiled. Ramoth had spoken to both of them, and apparently to Klamath as well; he unwrapped his neck from around Mara's and stretched it upwards, toward the big gold.

The riders turned around and sat on the steps, Mara still holding her little brown, T'men being very careful to not rattle the buckets. Mara listened in to the weyrling pair's conversation and reported most, but not all, to T'men.

_They're talking about how wonderful Ramoth is to let them sleep in her arms, and how warm the sun feels on hide and skin, and how Lessa said that a blue is just as valuable as a bronze._

T'men's eyebrow went up at the last statement, but he grinned, and nodded. _I missed most of the discussion earlier. Can you fill me in?_

T'men was only mildly surprised to learn that D'don's father had been a hold steward, and that he was overseeing the community of small holders. He shared what he had learned from the young man before bringing him to Benden Weyr. The last thing Dorravan had said to Darradon, now D'don, before the boy was taken from the community, was to always honor the dragons, above all else. T'men was certain from his brief time with the boy that he had taken that statement to heart and was now even more certain he and the others helping at Ista Weyr had made the right choice for this blue dragon and his rider. They would do well indeed at Benden Weyr.

_I can't believe I fell asleep. I didn't realize I was so tired. I hope F'lar and Lessa weren't upset._

Mara grinned maliciously. _I think F'lar and Lessa helped you fall asleep._ When T'men narrowed disbelieving eyes at her, she elaborated._ F'lar chose that 'reclining chair' for you, and Lessa didn't spend enough time to really clean all those mugs, and I'm pretty sure I smelled a bit of fellis when she poured your klah._

_She gave me fellis?_

_You were really tired, T'men, and a wise man told me just this day that dragonriders look out for each other. _Mara feigned total innocence. _Would this be a good example of that statement? _For special effect, she batted her eyelids a few times.

T'men would have burst into laughter – were his lips not clamped so tightly shut – but he did seem to spasm from his hilarity.

A young male voice called from above. "Do you need help?"

T'men's laughter escaped as he turned to see D'don standing at the top of the steps, Gredarth's head caressed to his side, and Ramoth's head looming behind and slightly above to oversee the whole situation. "We're just resting, weyrling. You stay where you are." To Mara, he asked, "Would Ramoth prefer we all go down?"

Mara asked Ramoth her preference, and blushed a bit at her answer. To T'men she relayed, "She says there's shade in her weyr for our sensitive human hides."

After another fit of laughter, T'men donned his harper training mask. "And the lesson in that is . . ."

"Even dragons look out for dragonriders." An irritated rumble from above prompted her to append, "Especially queens!"

Harper/bronze rider and heavily burdened weyrling trudged the rest of the way up the steps and – after respectful bows to the gold – a short way into Ramoth's weyr. The shade did feel good to Mara, though Klamath declared that the sun would feel better.

The weyrlings decided again to feed only partial meals to avoid belly aches on the long walk back to the weyrling barracks. While feeding, D'don became more and more mesmerized by the sight of each piece of raw herd beast. T'men quickly determined that the boy was quite hungry – as was he – neither having eaten since rushed early morning meals at Ista Weyr.

T'men jogged down the steps and across to the kitchen, and returned with a full tray of hearty and healthy snacks. D'don used one hand to feed Gredarth and the other to feed himself, easily matching the little blue bite for bite. Boy and dragon maintained telepathic contact throughout the meal, and Mara reported such to T'men, who was thrilled by the information.

Mara, with T'men's agreement, reminded the boy and his dragon not to eat too much. Gredarth inspected both half empty buckets and pushed 'his bucket' further away from Klamath. T'men, harper to the core, marked Gredarth's bucket with a plate of various snacks laid on top for his rider's later consumption.

A bit of spot oiling was required to facilitate a more comfortable walk, and then everyone thanked Ramoth for her kindness and thoughtfulness. D'don, with prompting from Ramoth herself, even hugged the queen's muzzle in gratitude for the comfortable use of her arms.

T'men carried Gredarth – after reminding Mara that if she fell she should fall _up_ the stairs, not down – while Mara carried Klamath, and D'don carried an empty tray and three buckets down to the sandy floor of the bowl.

Because D'don's clothing had been ruined at Ista Weyr – just one more reason T'men was glad to get the boy away from Toric's brood – the riders, with only a bit of worry from the two little dragons, decided to take the long circuit to the weyrling barracks. There was also shade on the other side of the long bowl.

The kitchen women made quite a fuss over welcoming young D'don, and even ventured away from the work tables to pet beautiful Gredarth, until Manora returned with her apron pockets full of small stoppered clay jars and bags of herbs.

Mara had a very strong feeling – though not from all the women – that the welcome had been exaggerated considerably due to the presence of tall, handsome, bronze rider T'men.

After scolding the kitcheners back to work, Manora greeted T'men, Mara and D'don. She shook hands with the young man as she welcomed him, but did not make any fuss over him, or his escorts, seeming rather to be slightly annoyed by their presence in her kitchen so near evening meal.

When T'men apologetically explained D'don's clothing situation, Manora asked the riders to take a seat. After seasoning various dishes and the meats, she would have a bit of free time, and would have to walk the tunnels to return her herbs to storage, so might as well take them a bit further to the clothing storage caverns.

"Everyone's so nice!" D'don spoke to Gredarth as he stroked the blue's head in his lap.

"They're never so nice to me." Mara feigned a slightly pouty attitude. When T'men turned suspicious eyes to her, she winked.

D'don, still focused on Gredarth, let slip, "Maybe because you're a g. . . um, woman."

"What difference does that make?"

Mara's seeming irritation caused D'don to look at her. He kicked himself for not thinking before speaking again. His mind raced a bit trying to guess her age; she was quite old, so surely knew about human mating urges. She lived in a weyr after all, but how long had she lived here? He finally looked at T'men, whose face quickly donned a curious expression. So he looked back at Mara, whose pout seemed far too . . . phony. With a growing, but cautious grin, he said, "You're teasing me, right?" The grin faded on the last word, just in case he was wrong.

As D'don's mind began to race, Mara noticed that contact with Gredarth had begun to diminish. When he found her pout to be unbelievable, contact strengthened, but as she tried to maintain her scowl – even as her eyebrows climbed her forehead with the effort – his mind began racing again, doubting his interpretation, but sure that she was teasing, but . . . – and contact with his worried little blue dragon was near breaking completely.

Mara finally smiled, reaching out to ruffle his unruly mop of sun-bleached hair. "Of course I'm teasing. I'll never be as handsome as you or Wingleader T'men. Why would those women be extra nice to me?"

"Because you're a dragonrider?" Again, D'don mentally kicked himself. How dim could he be?

T'men, trusting Mara's intentions to be honorable, played along with her teasing. "Do you think working in a Weyr changes basic human behavior patterns?"

D'don took his time thinking about this question. He had heard that impressing a dragon often changed a man for the better, but most people in a Weyr, from what he had seen at Ista and here at Benden Weyr, did not have dragons.

_Why are you teasing the boy?_ asked T'men of Mara as they waited.

_Just testing an idea. When . . ._ Her answer was interrupted by D'don's answer.

"I guess not." And then he thought about other human behaviors. "Does that mean weyrfolk will do a lot of teasing, too?"

"Absolutely," said T'men without hesitation. "But, due to the influence of the dragons, that teasing tends to be very good natured. Most Weyrs do not condone hurtful teasing."

D'don thought about that. He was never very good at dealing with teasing, but if he knew it was not meant to be mean, he would have an easier time accepting such.

"D'don?"

"Hmm?" Belatedly, he looked up at Mara.

The brown rider smiled, knowing she had caught him slightly off guard. "When I started teasing you, you seemed pretty nervous."

The boy nodded his head rather guiltily. "I don't always understand when people are teasing, and sometimes I think they are when they're not."

T'men ruffled the boy's hair this time. "That can be fixed."

"Were you able to feel Gredarth when you were nervous?"

"It was getting harder, until I realized you were teasing."

"Were you nervous when Wingleader T'men asked you a question?"

"No." His eyes grew wider as he almost grinned. "And I could feel Gredarth just fine."

"Hmmm," said Mara.

"Very interesting!" declared T'men.

D'don grinned broadly as Gredarth sat back to watch all three humans.

Manora called to T'men from just inside the meal preparation area, so all three riders stood and walked toward the kitchen. Manora squinted slightly as the two little dragons approached.

"Can you two walk with your tails off the ground?" Both little ones lifted their tails and took a few steps to prove that they could. "Good. Keep those tails up, please." To the riders, she added, "Dragonet tails stir up dust even on freshly mopped floors."

"Would you like me to hold your tail, Klamath?"

_I can do it._

D'don offered Gredarth the same option, and received the same indignant answer. So the weyrlings walked alongside their dragons – D'don first – behind Manora as she passed between tables. T'men brought up the rear, shaking his head as the two little dragons tried to balance with tails in the air. Those long tails swung back and forth and occasionally hit the legs of people working at the tables. They slumped closer to the floor with each surprised squeal, until Manora turned around halfway through the kitchen.

"Tails up!" she ordered.

T'men grinned as the tails flew up to what had to be uncomfortably high positions. Despite a few more slaps – now a little higher than the legs in some cases – the dragons kept their balance all the way to the other side of the kitchen.

As T'men entered the tunnel behind Mara and Klamath, Manora stopped and turned. She offered a slight curtsy as she addressed the dragons. "Thank you both for being so very considerate."

She was rewarded with two very proud looks, and noticed the riders were also rather pleased with their dragons. "You may now walk in whatever fashion is most comfortable." The tall, slender woman turned and continued down the tunnel.

She stopped a few doors down and asked the riders to wait while she returned her herbs to their proper places.

T'men was still grinning as he asked D'don, "Didn't your parents ever tease you?"

D'don answered sheepishly. "Mother did, all the time, but she always wore a goofy grin. Father never did. Mother said he was afraid people would forget he was hold steward, and then at Southern, she said he was afraid people wouldn't take him seriously."

"Didn't other youngsters tease you?" asked Mara.

D'don's eyes rolled. "All the time. Father said I should just ignore them, but they never stopped."

"Didn't you have friends to help you?" asked T'men.

"The only people who wanted to be friends up North, also wanted something from my father."

"And in Southern?" prompted T'men.

"There weren't any other kids my age; a few older, who teased constantly, and lots younger. Mother tried to help, but the older boys never teased me when she was around, and when I tried to tease them back, they'd turn all serious."

Manora stepped into the long tunnel. As she closed and locked the storeroom door, she questioned the boy. "You don't like being teased?"

D'don shrugged as his red face contorted. "I don't mind if it's in fun, but I don't know how to react, so it's just embarrassing."

"Hmm." Manora looked stern, but concerned. "We'll see what we can do to lessen your embarrassment, weyrling." She turned gracefully and began walking. "Come with me. I don't have much time."

The weyrlings, dragons at their sides, and T'men, followed as instructed. All were quiet as their footsteps alone seemed to echo in the long rock tunnel. As Manora began searching her string of keys, D'don turned back to smile at Mara. The rattling keys sent out an almost musical echo which D'don found quite amusing.

When Manora stopped, Gredarth stretched his neck in front of D'don to keep him from running into the woman. Embarrassed at his inattention, the boy hugged his dragon's head and whispered thanks and apologies to him.

Mara was asked to stay in the hallway with the little dragons; there wasn't enough room in the storeroom for dragonet tails, and Manora did not have time to straighten any accidental messes.

It didn't take long to supply D'don with standard weyrling issue. Mara listened as the boy and his dragon maintained contact, Gredarth wondering why humans needed so many things and D'don explaining between conversations with Manora or T'men. She also heard Klamath trying to explain to the blue.

_They need second hides to protect their thin hides. And they have special hides for everything they do. But they don't need oil like we do._

As T'men held the door open with an arm extended over the boy's head, D'don emerged with a large carisak slung over his shoulder as he graciously thanked the headwoman. The carisak was almost as long as the boy and D'don appeared in a bit of distress.

"May I help?" asked Mara.

"I can do it. Thank you though." He started down the tunnel in the direction T'men had indicated, toward the more southern exit to the bowl. Gredarth followed, concern in his eyes.

T'men, stooping to retrieve the meat buckets, shook his head as the boy, nearly hidden by the carisak, waddled slowly and awkwardly, obviously overburdened. With a wink to Mara he said, "Perhaps he's unfamiliar with teamwork."

Mara repeated T'men's earlier declaration with a teasing smile. "That can be fixed."

As Manora locked up the storeroom, she also glanced toward the weyrling. "Don't let that carisak scrape the ground," she admonished. "They don't grow on trees."

D'don's answer seemed bracketed by a grunt. "Yes, ma'am."

Mara hurried to catch up to D'don. "I can help you with this, and later you can help me with something."

D'don let the carisak slide to the ground and turned to the big woman. "Like what?" he asked suspiciously, and quickly added more politely, "You've already helped me so much."

Mara shrugged. "We'll be in training for well over a Turn. I'm sure something will come up. And if you can't help me, you can help someone else. Weyrlings and dragonriders have to stick together, you know."

Still looking suspicious, but knowing he couldn't possibly carry such a load another dragon's length, let alone all the way to the barracks, wherever they were, D'don grimaced. "All right."

The boy slid his arm through the shoulder strap and lifted the carisak. Mara reached down and took hold near the bottom of the long strap running from end to end. As she lifted, D'don gasped. "Oh, that's so much easier!"

Mara laughed. "That's teamwork! Be sure to let me know if you're going to stop, so I won't knock you over."

D'don tried to turn a smile at her, but received a demonstration of the effects of slowing down without warning. Laughing, the weyrlings made much better progress through the tunnel, dragonets at their sides.

When light was visible in the distance, Klamath edged around Gredarth and broke into an awkward gallop, wings extended slightly for balance, apparently anxious to finish his meal. Gredarth looked longingly at Klamath, and then pleadingly at his rider.

"Go on Gredarth," said D'don with a chuckle.

The little blue attempted to imitate Klamath's gallop, but his front legs weren't strong enough yet to support the extra weight, so he flopped forward and slid to a stop, his belly on the smooth rock floor. He stood quickly though and turned unconcerned eyes to his rider before taking off at a fast waddle.

_Please stay where we can see you, Klamath._

_We'll stop just inside the tunnel. I want to show him our home, and the lake, and the weyrlingmaster, and Mynth and Nayrith, and . . . and everything!_

"Is that normal, sir?" asked D'don with concern, wanting to address T'men but not wanting to be knocked off balance again.

T'men laughed. "Quite normal. You and Gredarth haven't been able to play as much as the weyrlings here. He'll catch up rather quickly."

"Did he hurt himself?"

"Ask him," said Mara.

After a few steps, D'don chuckled. "He says he'll need more oil on his neck and belly, but he's fine."

"Will more oil help him slide further?" asked Mara with a grin.

D'don actually thought about that. And laughed when he realized he and his dragon were being teased. Trying to sound serious even as a grin cramped his cheeks, he offered, "It might."

All three riders laughed as they traversed the remaining length of tunnel. T'men led the way past the entrance - having been fully apprised of the previous day's events - spotted the weyrlingmaster, and when he waved, motioned the weyrlings in his direction.

L'ret strode toward the weyrlings, looking as fierce as ever. "Well, you look well rested, weyrling."

Carisak resting on the ground, D'don stood straight and answered quite calmly. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

The weyrlingmaster puffed up slightly with pride; he loved to see proper respect from his weyrlings. He winced – or winked – at Mara as he continued speaking to the newest addition to the class. "Evening meal will be ready soon; everyone has free time until then. Most weyrlings in your class are feeding or oiling. Ah, I see Wingleader T'men has some buckets of meat. Drop that carisak off in the 'Istan weyr', and get to work with your dragon."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, Weyrlingmaster."

L'ret nodded at the boy, Mara, and T'men before turning sharply and returning to the lake to observe the rest of the class.

D'don stooped immediately to reposition the carisak on his other shoulder this time. Mara shifted sides and picked up her end, this time a little farther from the bottom. T'men cleared his throat at the sight of her taking more of the load, but Mara just shrugged her shoulders and grinned at him. Klamath led the way, Gredarth walking next to him, and explained everything they were seeing and named everyone he knew, including some of the older dragons. Gredarth seemed quite impressed and equally grateful.

When they reached an open area, not too close to anyone else, Mara questioned D'don. "Did Weyrlingmaster L'ret make you nervous?"

A quick harrumph escaped before the boy answered. "No. My father's all serious like that too. As long as I don't muck things up, everything's fine."

T'men chuckled. "I do believe you have the weyrlingmaster's measure, D'don. You and Gredarth will do quite well here."

"It's gotta be better than Ista Weyr." D'don kicked himself again. "I mean . . ." He was pushed off balance when he tried to face T'men. He resumed his march behind the dragons and after a few steps – and considerable thinking – stated resolutely, "No disrespect intended, sir, but I mean what I said. Benden Weyr has got to be better than Ista Weyr, sir."

T'men smiled. "Honesty is a commendable virtue, D'don, but perhaps you should consider learning tact."

"Yes, sir. I'll work on it, sir."

As D'don continued his march - apparently fuming over whatever he was thinking - T'men _spoke_ with Mara. _I'll see you to your weyr, but I need to get back to Ista._

Mara's smile faded. She missed her friend and teacher. _How long will you be there?_

_As long as I'm needed._ Now he shrugged his shoulders. _You'll be too busy for awhile for any more teaching. We can resume when I return. Do you have anything you can practice reading?_

_I do._ She had L'ret's transcripts, but had lost her copy of the Charter at Ista Weyr. Perhaps L'ret would allow her to request another copy from the Weyr Harper.

"It'll all work out fine," declared T'men loud enough for D'don to hear.

Both weyrlings responded a bit doubtfully. "Yes, sir."

T'men withheld a chuckle as they entered the weyr assigned to the Istan weyrlings.

"Whoa!" declared Mara as her eyes adjusted to the lack of sun glare. She was knocked off balance as D'don stopped, seemingly at Mara's request. They lowered the carisak to the ground as Mara studied the weyr.

The dragon's couch was completely hidden from view. There appeared to be an opening at each end of the newly built, temporary wall which was set far enough away from the couch to form a corridor to the inner weyr. Mara knocked on the wall, testing its strength, and found it to be quite sturdy.

The elderly weyrman she spoke to earlier stepped out from the far entrance wearing a proud smile, followed by two dragonriders. "Just on time!" He moved the fur covering the inner weyr and spoke in that direction. "You men finished yet?"

A distinctive bass answered. "Yes, sir! Just finishing the oil." A moment later, grinning G'regg stepped through the fur, followed by yet another rider. "If you'd waited just a bit longer," he addressed Mara with fluttering eyebrows, "I was about to have a look around."

Mara sneered at the bronze rider. "You like looking at little girls' clothing?"

G'regg winked at D'don – who had pressed himself against the rock wall – and leered at Mara. "I was hoping to find yours!"

The other riders, T'men included, either coughed or chuckled, but all turned away from the grinning bronze rider and none, except T'men, looked in Mara's direction. D'don stared in disbelief, head snapping back and forth from one end of the corridor to the other; maybe Benden Weyr wouldn't be any better than Ista Weyr.

Mara growled rather menacingly. "Get out of here, G'regg!"

As the bronze rider closed the distance between himself and the brown weyrling, D'don was sure they were both puffing up as if about to fight. He pressed tighter against the wall as the big bronze rider passed and watched as the big man walked far too close to the big woman.

"That's Wingleader G'regg, weyrling!"

D'don's jaw dropped as Mara's hand slapped the front of the wingleader's thigh, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head as the wingleader's hips shot backwards, nearly knocking down the wall behind.

Cheers and jeers echoed through the small weyr as the other riders, and the elderly man laughed at the bronze rider.

G'regg, still grinning, but in a far more threatening way, straightened up slowly and cocked his head at Mara. "As you wish, m'lady."

Mara pointed a finger at his nose. "Don't forget!"

She sounded so fierce, but she was grinning too, and everyone else was laughing, noticed D'don. Was this a game? Surely Wingleader T'men would stop this if it were anything else. The big bronze rider's hand moved at remarkable speed to capture Mara's. And then he turned that hand and kissed the knuckles. Yup, thought D'don, this is definitely some kind of game, or mutual teasing. He relaxed as he sought out Gredarth's equally confused mind.

_Klamath says she's just pretending to be mad._

_Good. That was a little scary._

"Stop that!" demanded Mara with very real irritation.

G'regg released her hand and offered his arm. "As you wish, m'lady."

Mara slapped his upper arm hard enough to turn him toward the main entrance and pushed him ahead. "Get out."

"Yes, m'lady."

Mara growled again, causing another round of laughter.

"Well, now that that's settled. . ." The elderly man stopped Mara from pushing G'regg all the way out. "Let me give you the grand tour." When Mara turned in interest, he addressed the pale boy about to slide to the floor. "Come along, young man. This should be the only time you see this end of the weyr without a proper invite."

Mara held out her hand to D'don, feeling guilty about frightening him. But, sooner or later, he would have to see how dragonriders teased each other. Too bad G'regg had been his introduction to Benden's most intense style of teasing. To her surprise, the boy took her hand and even squeezed as he pushed away from the wall.

G'regg took a breath to comment, but a truly fierce glare from Mara and a sharp tug on his arm from T'men convinced him otherwise. What was with this boy, he wondered? Was he a spoiled mama's boy? That type usually impressed greens, not blues. He studied the boy as he was led to the wall opening closest to the main entrance, and turned to question T'men.

"He's not used to teasing," whispered T'men.

"Ahh," said G'regg. His grin returned. "I'll fix that."

"Go easy! When he gets nervous, he loses contact with Gredarth."

G'regg's grin faded. "Oh. Then I'll fix it slowly and carefully."

T'men grinned at his new friend. "Good man."

The two wingleaders grunted at each other a few times before T'men said his farewells. After waving at Mara and D'don, he called Reyuth down from the ridges. _I'll see you soon, Sweet Thing._ He really didn't expect an answer; she had a full platter before her and her duties would not lessen anytime soon. And he really wasn't sure he had any chance of convincing her to be more than friends; not that it was even likely - Klamath had no problem with his being around Mara, which should tell any intelligent rider just what his chances were.

Mara had tried to keep D'don out of G'regg's sight as they followed the old weyrman. She relaxed when T'men turned his fellow bronze rider's attention away from the boy. When he thought his farewell, she responded with _Take care of yourself, T'men._

"What's with him?" asked D'don as they passed through the entrance.

Mara flinched and thought about her answer. G'regg wasn't bad, just annoying sometimes, but the boy should be warned. "Wingleader G'regg is the biggest tease I've ever met. But sometimes he goes too far."

D'don nodded his understanding just as the weyrman began his tour.

The outer weyr was now divided such that all four weyrlings had access to the dragon couch, but a new wall separated the three girls' cots from view of D'don's cot. His area was closest to the inner weyr. The weyrman demonstrated the privacy, and lack of privacy should anyone climb onto the couch. They all walked around the dragonets' carefully swirled grain-stalk nest to reach D'don's little area, complete with cot and a large chest.

On seeing his area, D'don couldn't control his excitement. "Wow. It's like a private weyr inside this big weyr!"

The man chuckled as D'don jumped down into his area. "It won't be so private I'd wager, when three girls start talking on the other side of this wall."

"They can't be as bad as my little brothers!"

"Want to put some marks on that, boy?" An almost sinister look crossed the man's face just briefly.

"Don't do it, weyrling," said one of the other riders. "He's originally from Bitra Hold."

"Once a Bitran, always a Bitran," added the second rider with a sneer.

"Ah, you boys! Why'd ya hafta spoil my fun? I wouldna taken marks from a weyrling. Help me down, will ya?"

The riders laughed as they helped the disgruntled man from the stone couch to the floor.

G'regg strolled in through the floor entrance with D'don's carisak hanging from one hand. "Did I hear mention of a wager?"

"Be wary of him, too, boy. He may not be from Bitra, but he surely carries Bitran blood!"

Even the old Bitran laughed at the bronze rider's comical scowl. G'regg tossed the carisak onto the cot as if it were loaded with wherry down. "Let's show them the rest of it." He turned with a huff, left the tiny weyr, and walked into the inner weyr, holding the hanging fur aside for the others.

Another new wall in the inner weyr created a corridor from the entrance to the necessary, with an opening at the end for entrance to the remainder of the inner weyr. As the elderly Bitran walked the short corridor, he explained to D'don that they – the weyrlings sharing this weyr – would have to work out a plan for the necessary. D'don merely nodded, and blushed a bit, as the man took his instructions quite seriously.

The hidden area contained chests, drawers and a couple of chairs for use by the girls.

D'don, much to his credit, bit his lip to keep from smiling at the Bitran man. He remained polite and attentive through the remaining tour as the man gave him fatherly instructions on how to properly and happily share space with women. It took all the young man's self control to keep from telling him about living with his mother, older sister, and two younger sisters.

With the tour complete and all the older men gone, Mara and D'don finished feeding their very patient, but famished little dragons. They went outside and met up with Cally and Angalyn before finishing their dragons' oil baths. Both green riders were thrilled to meet D'don and Gredarth, and their greens – after proper introductions from Klamath – made the little blue feel quite welcome.

* * *

Thank you all for reading! Please review!

Safe skies!


	17. Hello B'roghe!

After a bit of gentle, rider controlled playing, the 'Istan' dragons all lay down for their evening nap in a sufficiently sunny spot near the lake. Gredarth fell asleep first, not being accustomed to playing or walking so far. His eyes were a peaceful blue as his lids closed despite a valiant attempt at watching his new friends. Mynth and Nayrith lay down on either side of him, and Klamath, feeling just a bit jealous, but understanding Gredarth's need, snuggled up to Mynth.

Four weyrlings sat within reach of their respective dragons, all grinning at their precious lifemates.

"What do you feel from Gredarth, D'don?" asked Mara quietly.

"Umm." The boy shrugged, eyes darting to the green riders. This could be embarrassing, he thought.

Cally saw his embarrassment and quickly tried to help him out. "Mynth is happy to have a new friend. She likes how warm he is." She giggled. "And she really likes being between a big brown and a pretty blue."

Angalyn spoke up next. "Nayrith likes Gredarth too, but she's just a little jealous." When D'don looked worried, she smiled. "She liked being the newest dragon."

As D'don wasn't quite willing to expose Gredarth's feelings to three girls, he waited for Mara's answer.

Mara grinned even wider at the boy. He would soon learn how little embarrassed dragonriders when talking about their dragons. "Klamath is thrilled to have a new friend, especially a boy dragon." When the green riders gawked at her, she quickly explained. "Oh, he loves playing with Mynth and Nayrith, but he knows he's a boy dragon and has been wondering what it would be like to play with the other boy dragons." When the girls nodded their reluctant understanding, she continued. "He's a bit jealous, too. He liked sleeping between Mynth and Nayrith, but he understands."

A chuckle from behind caused all four weyrlings to shuffle around to view the intruder. A tall, well built young man stood behind them, a good man's length away. He blushed as he nodded to each of the weyrlings.

"My apologies for intruding. My Dandreth has been anxious to meet Klamath, and Mynth and Nayrith, and now he's anxious to meet Gredarth."

Mara, rather defensive, stood to meet the young man. She remembered from her brief stint as a weyrlingmaster's assistant-in-training that he was a quiet and competent young man, but couldn't remember his name. She didn't think he would cause them any trouble – his thoughts seemed friendly enough – but he was certainly big enough to bully her smaller friends, if he chose.

The new arrival's smile never faltered as the slightly taller, but definitely bigger, brown rider approached. He held out his arm in the classic dragonrider fashion. "I am B'roghe, rider of bronze Dandreth. It's a pleasure to meet you, Brown Rider Mara."

Mara grasped his arm, not too firmly, and tried to smile. "And you, Bronze Rider B'roghe." She could _hear_ the girls thinking how cute this weyrling was, so dared to test his intentions. "Would you like to join us?"

"I'd be honored," replied B'roghe, with no hint of sarcasm. The brown rider's wince didn't surprise him; he understood why she might doubt his honesty with such a statement. The change in her demeanor over the course of the last sevenday didn't surprise him either. That first day she visited the weyrling barracks, she had seemed the perfect, simple-minded, happy drudge – almost a child, despite her size and age. Learning about her empathic abilities with dragons had impressed him, but the way she spoke to the weyrlings with kindness had impressed him even more. Having impressed a brown dragon, she could not possibly be as simple-minded as she had first appeared, and he was anxious to learn more about Pern's first female brown rider. There was the possibility in Turns to come, after all, that she might actually serve in his wing. The same applied to each of the 'Istan' weyrlings.

Introductions were made all around, D'don being the only weyrling unfamiliar with using the dragonrider's handshake, but B'roghe was kind and patient with his gentle instructions. Cally was rather bold with her greeting, announcing herself, her dragon, and the likelihood that she would be training at Fort Hold's Healer Hall very soon. Angalyn was quite demure; she did return his handshake, but blushed and had trouble looking at his face.

The weyrlings sat in a circle, D'don being closest to Gredarth, B'roghe next to him, and the others sitting around them.

B'roghe's eyes lost focus briefly before he smiled. "Would you mind if Dandreth joins us?"

"Of course not!" Cally answered for all.

B'roghe smiled at her brashness. "I thought he was asleep, but now he's a bit upset with me for having met you without him."

Dandreth waddled over, nuzzled B'roghe for a quick neck rub, and then seemed to nod at each of the Istan weyrlings. He then walked toward Klamath, who had wakened at his approach. They touched noses before the little bronze moved behind the Istan dragons, being very careful of any outstretched tails, and lay down next to Nayrith.

When Nayrith's tail swung around and flipped up over Dandreth's back, B'roghe sighed. "Oh, that's sweet." He looked at D'don, who seemed surprised. "I think all dragonets must crave contact with others."

Seeing the soppy smile on the bronze rider's handsome face gave D'don a little more confidence. His eyes lost focus as he reached for his little blue's sleep-clouded mind. He clenched his eyes shut as tears began to flow. A big hand on his shoulder seemed to offer permission to share. "He's so happy. He hasn't been this happy since . . . since he chose me." The boy's chest heaved as he tried to control emotions held tight for too long at Ista.

B'roghe pulled the boy's head to his chest and rubbed his back. "Impression is amazing, isn't it?"

The bronze weyrling held D'don close, rocking a bit, until the boy's tears slowed. Cally, sitting next to D'don, patted and rubbed his knee compassionately, grinning at the memory of impressing Mynth. Angalyn alternately grinned and looked frightened; her impression had been marred somewhat by Toric trying to separate her from Nayrith.

Mara, hearing everyone else's thoughts, and remembering Klamath's surprise choice, let tears of her own flow as she nodded thanks to B'roghe. She hoped that D'don would feel more comfortable at Benden Weyr now, and she hoped that B'roghe would take an interest in helping him adjust.

A gentle throat clearing caused all five weyrlings to sit up straight and start scrubbing at damp or wet eyes.

"Is everything all right here?" asked the weyrlingmaster's assistant.

"We're fine, Bronze Rider K'remin," answered B'roghe with a sheepish grin. "We were just recalling our impressions."

"Ahhh." K'remin's face softened considerably. "That'll do it every time." He smiled briefly at his own memories before getting back to business. "Weyrlingmaster L'ret is forming up the classes for evening meal. He's asked me to watch your dragons."

Cally bounced to her feet first, and then skipped closer to K'remin. "Can we bring you anything to eat?"

K'remin smiled at the darling little blond, and then remembered earlier instructions. "Thank you for the offer, Weyrling, but I'll eat later."

The weyrlings all stood – B'roghe even offered the brown rider a non-offensive hand up – and joined the other weyrlings in marching formation, each finding their proper positions based on dragon color and age.

Weyrlings marched in four separate formations this day. Mara wondered if this was normal and she simply hadn't noticed. The oldest weyrlings were already entering the dining cavern. The second and largest group, which included two separate hatchings only a month apart, had nearly reached the north end, and the next group, whose dragons had hatched barely four months ago, was about halfway across the long bowl.

The newest weyrling class was marched north with a few detours, each eliciting some complaint and some laughter. They learned rather quickly that any reaction to their marching orders only brought more detours. By the time they finally reached the halfway point, only one rider was still complaining, with several bronze weyrlings shushing him from all directions. The final half of the march was straight and the weyrlings were silent the remaining distance.

At the dining cavern, they were halted and directed to enter in their single file line, _quietly_. L'ret stood near the first serving table, monitoring those who passed. As a bronze weyrling commented on the wonderful odors wafting down the line, L'ret pointed to him.

"B'roghe! End of the line!" L'ret then addressed the remaining weyrlings. "Quiet until you are seated."

B'roghe, a bit embarrassed, nodded at L'ret and with shoulders set squarely, marched to the back of the line.

Another bronze weyrling laughed as B'roghe passed.

"B'rand! End of the line!" When the boy took a breath to protest, he added, "Now!"

B'rand, now furious, stomped to the back of the line, mumbling to himself as he went.

The remaining weyrlings all held their tongues and bit their lips if necessary to avoid their weyrlingmaster's wrath. Despite this, L'ret pointed to another.

"Mara! End of the line!"

Mara was shocked. She hadn't said anything, or made any noise at all. She nodded at her weyrlingmaster and despite her embarrassment, held her chin high as she walked to the back of the line.

"What'd she do?" asked D'don as he came close to L'ret.

L'ret pointed at the blue weyrling. "D'don! End of the line!"

"But . . ."

"Now!"

"Yes, sir." D'don, also embarrassed, but a little upset at such unfairness, marched to the back of the line as well, though he looked at the ground as he tried to figure it out.

Mara, right behind B'rand, heard him snicker quietly enough that L'ret wouldn't hear. She also heard his thoughts; he was a vengeful sort, thinking of various ways to get even with L'ret. Now Mara understood why she had been selected; L'ret was asking her to confirm his suspicions about the boy.

As D'don passed, B'rand snickered again. Mara slapped him on the arm.

"How dare you?" B'rand nearly bellowed as he turned to face the big brown rider.

B'roghe stopped B'rand's turn though; with strong hands he turned the boy back forward and firmly put two fingers to his lips.

Mara heard the boy's fear now. B'rand was feeling trapped and outnumbered. The weyrlings on either side being so much bigger only made him feel even more trapped, and angry. He would get even with L'ret for this. He would find a way.

As the end of the line approached the first table, L'ret pointed again.

"B'rand! End of the line!"

The bronze weyrling held his tongue, but scowled at the weyrlingmaster before stomping nearly through Mara to his assigned position, the last weyrling permitted to eat this evening.

L'ret caught Mara's eye and shook his head once. When D'don grunted, L'ret turned his full attention to the last weyrling.

"B'rand! Take a seat. You'll have water only this meal."

"But, I'm hungry!"

"And you've now disobeyed orders three times. Back to the barracks! Now!" One stomp of his foot sent the boy running out of the dining cavern. L'ret immediately asked Duranth to inform all his assistant's dragons about the boy's punishment – water rations until morning and confinement to his cot until further notice.

And then, after catching her eye, he _spoke_ to Mara. _Will you please keep your ears open to that young man?_

_Yes, sir._

_Thank you._

Mara did keep her _ears_ open, and was slightly amused to learn that big brown Duranth was currently herding the errant boy back to the barracks, complete with well placed grunts and growls. B'rand was now even angrier and feeling even more outnumbered, and even contemplated throwing a rock at the weyrlingmaster's dragon, trying to decide whether he could escape if he aimed at one of the big orange eyes.

Mara glanced at L'ret who was smirking with poorly disguised pride in his old brown dragon. His glazed eyes indicated that rider and dragon were coordinating their efforts.

"Ha! End of the line? What'd you do to deserve that, boy?"

G'regg's unmistakable taunting infuriated Mara. She turned to D'don, with a finger pressed to her clamped lips, just in time to keep him from answering. When D'don nodded, she glared at G'regg.

"Don't bother the weyrlings, brother!" B'nor shoved G'regg from behind.

As G'regg lurched forward, G'raden came into view, grinning apologetically. Mara's surprise immediately dissipated her anger, causing G'raden to smile more broadly.

Mara turned around quickly as that smile caused a sudden heat in her cheeks and her belly. And there stood B'roghe, ready to assist. When the bronze weyrling's concern changed to a knowing grin, Mara wanted to growl, but scowled instead until he turned forward, convulsing with suppressed laughter. To keep from smacking his back, she folded her arms tightly across her belly, and realized too late that doing so with such force only put her in the 'more-than-a-serving-girl' pose.

L'ret's laughing eyes and tightly pressed lips served to break the last of the residual tension she had been picking up from _listening_ to B'rand. She relaxed her arms, cocked her head, and shrugged at her weyrlingmaster just as it was her turn to be served by the kitchen drudges.

Their 'punishment' was quickly forgotten as the last three weyrlings took their seats. B'roghe expertly questioned each of the three youngest Istan weyrlings about their backgrounds, though in such a casual manner that none were made uncomfortable. When he started asking about their impressions though, Cally explained in almost polite terms that speaking about the Ista hatching during a meal would not help the digestive process, and she, for one, did not wish to waste the benefit of one single bite of this meal. B'roghe smiled indulgently at the little blonde's pretentiousness, but let the subject rest when both Angalyn and D'don agreed with Cally. Mara, though, seemed to be already suffering a bit of indigestion.

"Mara?" The bronze rider was surprised to see a touch of anger in her eyes, but it did quickly disappear.

"Hmm?" Mara had been listening to B'rand, and was quite distressed over the level of his anger. That anger was hiding something more, quite effectively. This was why Mara didn't like listening to people; people were so complicated – not at all like dragons, who thought mostly about food, sun, and flying. But L'ret had asked, so she would continue until told otherwise. But, apparently, she would have to work harder at hiding what she was doing.

"Are you all right?" B'roghe was truly concerned for this woman who always seemed so consistently happy. Her darting eyes and changing expressions convinced his highly intuitive mind that she was looking for a way to prevaricate. He chose a more direct question. "What were you thinking about?" She responded to his directness with another bit of anger. How interesting, he thought.

Mara picked up on his analysis and almost laughed. He was truly concerned, though, so she simply smiled in what she hoped would be a convincing manner. "I was thinking about something that I can't talk about." That got his mind racing, but his strongest theory – involving her and G'raden – did make her laugh. "I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention, was I?"

"No, you weren't." The bronze rider studied the brown rider. Her conflicting and quickly changing emotions were an enigma; she would be an interesting puzzle if he could find enough time.

His analytical thoughts were rather amusing. Mara certainly didn't feel herself to be at all complicated, but this could be fun. "I did apologize."

"Yes, you did." After another moment of questioning glare, he relented. "Apology accepted."

Bronze and brown weyrlings glared at each other for several heartbeats before both began to smile.

The younger weyrlings in their group had been getting rather nervous at seeing a two large weyrlings apparently challenging each other for some unknown reason.

Cally took a deep, noisy breath as they now smiled at each other. "So! Where are you from, Mara?"

Puzzlement caused her brow to furrow as she looked at the little green rider. "You know where I'm from." She smiled apologetically after realizing how angry she might have sounded – B'rand's anger was still affecting her.

"B'roghe and D'don don't." Cally was not the least bit phased.

_Mara?_

_Yes, Weyrlingmaster?_

_You may discontinue your monitoring. B'rand is now under surveillance in the barracks._

_Yes, sir. Thank you, sir._

Oh, so observant, Cally asked, "Is Klamath awake?"

Shards, thought Mara. She turned to B'roghe. "I'm from Keroon."

"Northern or southern?" he returned immediately, grinning at her avoidance of Cally's question.

Much to Mara's regret, the bronze weyrling learned quite a bit about her during the remainder of the meal. Thankfully, he didn't press for details of how she came to be at Benden Weyr, beyond the fact that a bronze rider had rescued her from a dangerous situation.

When L'ret called the newest weyrling class back into formation, Mara was quite dismayed to find that her plate was not even close to empty. She had been – and still was – quite hungry, so rolled what would survive into a napkin, stuffed it into a pocket, and stuffed as much of the remaining food as she could manage into her mouth before quickly returning her tray to the kitchen.

The march back was quiet and uneventful. Only a few maneuvers were thrown into the march with no complaints or laughing. When they reached the barracks, the weyrlings were released for free time, during which it was suggested they take care of personal needs, such as tidying their areas or doing laundry, bathing or studying.

As the Istan weyrlings walked toward their still napping dragons, a familiar bellow caused the brown rider to groan.

"Mara!" yelled L'ret. "My office! Now!"

Hazel eyes rolled as the brown weyrling turned back toward the barracks. K'remin was still with the dragons, so she wouldn't worry about her little friends. Wishing to set a good example, she matched L'ret's volume. "Yes, Weyrlingmaster!"

Several other weyrlings chuckled as she passed at a fast walk, but not as many as previously, and no one made rude remarks. Were they starting to accept her? wondered Mara.

B'roghe left a group of older boys to walk beside her. "Is everything all right?"

Again, he seemed genuinely concerned, and ready to defend her if necessary, which surprised Mara considerably. She couldn't tell him, though, the true reason for this meeting, so called on her first meeting with L'ret as a new weyrling. She shrugged, hoping for the desired effect, and half tried to smile. "He said once that because I'm the oldest weyrling, he would expect more from me."

B'roghe's eyes sparkled. "Then I am truly grateful for your presence!"

Mara laughed. "Better me than you, huh?"

"Absolutely!" He slapped the back of her shoulder as he spun to return to his friends. "Good luck!"

Mara was still laughing as she turned back toward the barracks, but stopped immediately at the sight of her weyrlingmaster, lounging against the entrance with arms crossed and a deeper-than-normal scowl on his face. She quickened her pace and, at his silent direction, led the way down the hallway to his office.

"New friend?" he asked as soon as he closed the door.

Mara stopped in front of his desk and turned. "I think so."

L'ret grunted as he walked to his chair at the desk. "He'll make a good wingleader." He motioned toward an armed chair and sat in his own. "Maybe even a weyrleader."

Mara took the offered chair and relaxed a bit. "Can you tell me anything about him, sir?"

L'ret winced at the 'sir', but his scowl relaxed and one corner of his mouth turned up slightly. "His name is B'roghe, future rider of bronze Dandreth." The other edge of his mouth joined the first.

Mara smiled slowly and with a bit of challenge. "Yes, sir."

L'ret winced again and took a deep breath. "So, what can you tell me about B'rand?"

Her smile faded as Mara took a breath as well while formulating her response. "He's a very angry young man." She relayed all that she had heard, and almost regretted mentioning the rock throwing thoughts; L'ret's wince this time was quite pained. "He's afraid of you, by the way."

"As he should be!"

"And he was pretty scared when B'roghe turned him away from me. His anger is covering up something else, something he doesn't want to admit."

"Hmm. You seemed rather distracted in the dining hall, and even a bit angry yourself at one point."

Mara shrugged self-consciously. "I think his anger sort of leaked into me."

"Mmm. I won't ask you to listen to him anymore then. I apologize for putting you in that position."

Mara wasn't sure what to think of that. She was shocked at his apology, and now embarrassed to admit lack of control of her own emotions. "This," she pointed vaguely at her ear, "should be used to help people. I'm just not used to it yet."

"I will _not_ ask you to listen to young B'rand again, but, if you ever feel the need, do so. Just report to me afterwards, understood?"

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry I couldn't be more help."

"You have provided considerable insight. Now we need to find a way to help him control himself. But that is not your problem, weyrling. You have enough to figure out in the very near future."

Weyrlingmaster and weyrling/weyrlingmaster's assistant then discussed the remainder of her day, beginning with D'don. Mara filled him in on the discussions he had missed, on the rearrangement of the Istan weyr, on her thoughts about the blue pair's communication problem, and on B'roghe's kind assistance in releasing the boy's pent up emotions. L'ret informed her that B'roghe would be an excellent role model for any young boy thanks to his 'proper upbringing', but would not elaborate.

They then moved on to this evening's plans. Mara and Angalyn needed to be checked out by the healers and D'don hadn't seen the healers yet either, so that would be the 'Istan's' first assignment.

L'ret grimaced in an awkward and amusing way. "And then Angalyn needs to see Andre. I've been threatened with a very poor haircut if he isn't allowed to 'fix' her hair _this very evening_." On the last three words, L'ret cocked one wrist and pointed two fingers at Mara, very much like Andre had done on their first meeting.

Mara laughed freely at L'ret's surprisingly close rendition of one of Andre's mannerisms.

After some shared laughter at L'ret's acting abilities, L'ret ended the meeting by handing her his class transcripts, as promised earlier. "And the rest of the evening is yours to do with as you please – until the dragons wake of course."

"Of course!" As L'ret began to stand, so did Mara; bracing on the chair arms made her rise considerably easier. Picking up the roll of hide transcripts, she thanked L'ret, and left his office.

In the hallway, hearing weyrlings in the barracks, Mara schooled her expression to one more appropriate for a weyrling just leaving her weyrlingmaster's office.

B'roghe met the brown rider as she stepped into the large bowl of Benden. "Is everything all right?"

Why was this young man suddenly so interested in her well-being? Mara scolded herself for being so paranoid; he seemed to be a genuinely caring person, and perhaps this day was the first time he'd had time to meet the newest weyrlings. She held up the roll of hides and smirked. "I've missed some classes. He wants me to catch up."

"Oh!" The bronze rider fell into step with her as she returned to her friends. "If you need any help, let me know." He motioned to all the weyrlings spread out in the southern part of the bowl. "We're all on the same team, you know."

"Thank you!" Mara loved the idea of teamwork. Working as a team on the docks of Keroon had always been far more enjoyable than competing for the best loads, and usually more profitable. Even small loads had to be moved and when they were moved quickly and cheerfully, those with the marks were usually quite appreciative.

As the three younger weyrlings joined the bronze and brown weyrlings, Mara pointed at each of them with the roll of hides. "We have an assignment."

B'roghe laughed as Cally bounced with excitement, Angalyn looked dubious, and D'don looked cautiously curious.

Mara pointed at Angalyn first. "You and I need to visit the healers." Then she pointed at D'don. "And you need to meet the healers. They like to check out new arrivals."

Cally continued to bounce. "I'll go with you. I need to know if I've been doing your bandages right. And I need more bandages anyway." She started skipping toward the weyr. "I'll be right back."

"Cally, wait!" When the girl turned back, Mara scolded. "We're supposed to stay together, remember?"

"Mack's right there. See?"

Indeed, when Mara looked closer, Master Mack was just exiting their weyr.

_Snooping, Master?_

_Reconnaissance. Are we ready to head north?_ His big grin was visible even from this distance.

_Cally needs to pick up her healer's bag._

_Send her over._ He waved his arm over his head and performed an elaborate bow as he motioned Cally to join him.

Mara handed Cally the hides she held. "Will you put these on my cot?"

"Sure!" Cally snatched the roll and ran full tilt all the way across the bowl.

B'roghe laughed again, shaking his head. "Where does she get all that energy?"

"She's eleven," said Mara flatly. She was quite relieved to see B'roghe's eyes go wide at that revelation.

"But, candidates are supposed to be at least twelve," said D'don.

"She wasn't a candidate," said Mara with a grin.

D'don looked up at the big woman as he thought about that. "She was in the kitchen, too?"

When Mara's nod was met by a slow nod from D'don, B'roghe's curiosity overwhelmed him. The weyrlings at Benden Weyr had not been 'bothered' with any details of the Istan hatching; they had merely been informed that some of Ista's weyrlings would be joining their class. Rumors had abounded, of course, but few facts were actually known by the weyrlings. "Oh, please!" He sounded so desperate. "I'd _really_ like to hear about the hatching at Ista Weyr."

Mara did not want to talk about the hatching. She had been working very hard to avoid thinking about anything that might bother little Klamath. "It was . . ."

"Disastrous!" filled in D'don, face contorted with fearful memories.

"Frightening!" added Angalyn. Her eyes pleaded with B'roghe to not push for more.

"My apologies," offered B'roghe, first to D'don and Angalyn and then to Mara. "My sincere apologies. We've all heard rumors, but I had no idea just how stressful it must have been."

Cally and Mack jogged up in time to hear B'roghe's apology. Cally eyed Mara and B'roghe as if she feared more of the earlier unspoken challenges. Mack observed each of the weyrlings and wondered what could have caused so much anxiety.

Cally was the first to speak. "We do need to talk about the hatching, Mara. All of us."

B'roghe was surprised to see fear on the big woman's face.

"Are our dragons old enough to handle so much . . ."

"Emotion?" offered Mack.

"Yeah."

Everyone looked at everyone else for several heartbeats. No one seemed to know the answer to that question.

Cally took the initiative. "We can ask Weyrlingmaster L'ret after we go to the healer's."

All agreed to her wise suggestion. B'roghe accompanied the group, desperate to learn more about each one of these new classmates. They each seemed to have rather unique, puzzling, and even conflicting personalities. Was Ista Weyr the key? Or was it just the one common piece in each of their individual histories? B'roghe had always been interested in people's stories. With considerable input from his father and grandfather, he had realized early in his life that knowledge of a person's history could totally change the way one perceives that person. A grump may have good reason to be grumpy, or he may just be totally self-centered and self-absorbed. He would later appreciate his intense curiosity about these weyrlings.


	18. Evening 'Free Time'

Household chores have suffered tremendously this weekend.

Hope no one minds a 'short' wait for this chapter.

When it comes, it comes - sure wish it were all mine, but it isn't.

* * *

"We're not supposed to hide things from our dragons, remember Mara?"

The brown rider rolled her eyes at the little green rider. "How could I ever forget, Cally?"

"Why would you hide something from Klamath?" asked D'don innocently. "Is that even possible?"

Mara shrugged her shoulders, rather embarrassed by the whole affair.

"She was trying to protect him, but it didn't work." Cally went on to tell the whole story, only briefly mentioning the attempted poisoning of their dragons, but focusing on the confusion and worry caused by Mara's trying to protect Klamath, Cally and Mynth. Her slightly exaggerated version of the story made it difficult for anyone to walk without the assistance of someone else in the group, they all laughed so hard.

"So, you see," she directed her summary to the blue and green weyrlings, "keeping secrets doesn't work with dragons."

While Master Mekelroy – aka Mack – commended young Cally on the harper quality of her wonderful story, B'roghe held Mara back for a private word.

With a gleam in his eye, he asked, "Should I call you Mother Mara, or Mama Mara?"

Mara squinted at the young man and rolled her head to look him square in the eyes, but had trouble keeping a straight face. "If you're smart as you seem, you'll call me Mara."

B'roghe's face threatened to split in two from his wide grin. "Yes, ma'am." He placed his hands in the air as if to keep her away. "I mean Mara!"

"Who's making all the noise out here?"

All the weyrlings, and Mack, turned to see Master Healer Tarminas walking out of the Healer's cavern. Each managed a contrite "Sorry, Master."

The healer's fierce scowl transformed to a smile when he saw who the offenders were. "Ah, Cally, dear! Angalyn, Mara, you're late!" His scowl returned, but only briefly. He nodded to Mack. "Master Mekelroy. And I know you." He pointed to the bronze weyrling. "B'roghe, isn't it? Ah yes. But who is this young man?"

"I'm D'don, Master Healer."

"Rider of blue Gredarth," finished Mara. Why was he shy about that? He would learn.

Angalyn was examined by Tarminas first, with Cally's assistance, and declared free to bath, as long as she didn't soak for too long or scrub her wounds. Meantime, Mara's leg and hand were examined by Loralin, who teasingly wondered why the brown rider was even bothering the healers. She was also informed that a small group of 'bone adjusters' would be visiting Benden Weyr in a few days. Later, D'don was given his first weyrling examination by both Tarminas and Loralin. When asked if he'd like any company in the exam room, D'don asked B'roghe.

D'don was found to have several bruises, thanks to the other weyrlings at Ista Weyr, but was otherwise deemed perfectly healthy. In the privacy of the exam room, the young man's worries were dispelled when Master Healer Tarminas himself promised he would indeed grow, and probably outgrow many of the other weyrlings, based on scientific – though brief – review of family history, of course.

D'don smiled proudly as he and B'roghe joined the rest of the Istan weyrlings and Mack. He wouldn't say why he was so happy, but everyone accepted and appreciated his change, though not without a bit of teasing. He handled the teasing rather well, B'roghe sometimes stepping in to rescue him from extreme discomfort.

Angalyn was ordered to return in the morning, Mara was ordered to stay away unless any new damage was incurred, and Cally's bag of supplies was replenished.

Next stop was the Living Caverns. Aunties and uncles were sitting in various groups in the large cavern, some around small tables working on needlework or small leatherwork projects, some around a large quilt frame, and some just talking; there were even several riders sitting at the various stations. Other people were working cheerfully at the washing troughs or the semi-permanent weaving looms near one side of the cavern. Splashing could be heard from behind floor mounted partitions at the far end, and one rather loud, overly feminine treble voice was describing what Aivas called a 'spiky mohawk'.

"That's what our adorable Weyrlingmaster L'ret will be wearing if that darling little girl isn't brought to me this very evening."

The younger weyrlings giggled when Mack added appropriately amusing actions to Andre's silently repeated words. As he was finishing by pointing two fingers at B'roghe, Andre stepped out of his little carved room.

A loud squeal of delight stopped all activity and drew everyone's attention. "Ooo, there she is!" The little man – shorter than Mack, but taller than D'don – wore an outlandish outfit of loose fitting, overlarge purple trousers ballooned at his ankles, topped with an equally oversized orange and yellow tunic that ballooned at his skinny waist and elbows, and was held closed only by a garish woven red and white belt that hung to his knees, thus exposing his bony, hairless chest as he moved. He ran, sort of – his movement was more up and down than forward, his feet flew out to the sides with each step, and his hands flayed back and forth – straight to a furiously blushing little green rider with wide eyes and open mouth.

"Just look at that lovely hair!" Andre stopped with both hands on Angalyn's head, gently pulling large hunks of her short hair away from her head. "And the curls! Oooo!"

Angalyn had backed up to Mara at the exuberant little man's approach. Andre's eyes roved upwards as he played with Angalyn's hair. Suddenly, he gasped, quite loudly. "You're back!" And then he looked around at the others in the group, and squealed again. "Four curly heads! Oh, this will be fun!" He eyed Mack rather contemptuously. "Master Mekelroy, my handsome harper, may I do your hair, too?"

As Mack shook his head while grimacing, Andre spotted B'roghe. One hand slapped his chest as the other covered, inefficiently, a long breathy gasp. "Oh, my! Who is this beautiful dragonrider?" As if in a trance, he moved smoothly toward the tall bronze weyrling, his hands moving forward as if to caress B'roghe's chest.

B'roghe's smile faded as his eyes grew large enough to fall out of his skull, as he moved backwards and finally stepped behind Mara. Andre flinched dramatically when his hands almost touched Mara. He then grinned lopsidedly at the big woman. "He's a shy one, hmm?"

The entire Living Cavern burst into uncontrollable laughter. Andre winked at pale B'roghe before leading the little green riders to his little barber shop.

Mack turned an overly bland look to Mara and the one eye he could see belonging to B'roghe. "Interesting character." He then looked pointedly at D'don, who had both hands firmly clamped over his mouth as he shook uncontrollably, his laughing eyes the only evidence he wasn't ill. "Come along, D'don. Let's see what he's doing to the girls."

Mara had to turn to find B'roghe, who seemed rather shrunken and pale. "Are you all right?" A too-quick nod of his head made Mara chuckle. "Is this the first time you've met Andre?"

B'roghe straightened up, finally overcoming his surprise, shock, and – he'd never admit this to anyone – fear. His color returned as he glared at the big grinning brown weyrling. "Lucky guess."

Mara put an arm over his shoulders as she led him to Andre's shop. "He doesn't bite." She purposely waited a breath to add, "At least, not me."

When B'roghe's steps faltered, the cavern filled with laughter again. It didn't take long for the well-bred young man to realize he had just undergone some sort of initiation ritual. He forced a smile and turned to look at each person in the cavern. And then he bowed, several times in several directions. Turning to Mara, he held up a fist and whispered, "If he touches me, I'll hit him."

Mara was unaware that this was a standard joke in the Weyr; she had teased on her own initiative in retaliation for his earlier grin at her discomfort. "How's he supposed to do your hair if he doesn't touch you?" she asked innocently.

B'roghe growled, much as Mara would have liked to earlier, and smacked her on the shoulder, pushing her ahead.

Above the entrance to the small cave hung an old, thin hide, hand-painted in frilly pink letters: "SALON D'ANDRE". Inside, Mack, Cally and D'don sat on well cushioned chairs, all grinning as Andre massaged Angalyn's head in a sink full of bubbly water. As the little man expertly finger-combed the mats from the back of her hair, he kept up a running dialogue with either his audience, his current subject – though Angalyn was near tears in ecstasy – or with Bista, who tried to keep her balance on his constantly moving shoulder. If no one else had anything to say, he would regale them with stories of all the amazing things he was learning from Aivas, about different hair styles throughout centuries of Earth's, and other planet's, history, and various treatments that could be applied to hair. Everyone laughed at his outrageous descriptions.

Mara soon wondered how this man could seem so oblivious to everyone laughing at him and his mannerisms. He was obviously quite different than any man she had ever known, most notably in openly displaying his preference for men as fur companions. But, how did he deal with being laughed at? Everyone in the Living Cavern had laughed at his strange voice and at his odd running; Mara was rather ashamed that she had laughed too. She stretched her _hearing_ to see what he might be thinking, and quickly clamped her shields back into place. His thoughts were quite different from his voice. As he was going on about Earth hairstyles, he was also sharing information with Bista, and therefore Mack. Mara unintentionally glanced at Mack – who was studiously cleaning his fingernails with his belt knife – before turning toward the main cavern.

_Learn anything interesting?_

_I'm sorry Master. I didn't mean to . . ._ Oh, what was the right word?

_Ah, but you did. Answer my question._

_Um, I know that he and the little one are sharing pictures, but I didn't look._

_You should have!_

_What? Why?_

_You should use that remarkable ability of yours to learn as much as possible, about everything and everyone._

_But that's a violation of privacy!_

_Only if you misuse what you learn._

The same argument had been mentioned in F'lar and Lessa's presence. _But, how would I keep it straight?_

_Keep what straight?_

_What I learn this way and what I learn like everyone else._

_Mmm. Good question._

And that was the end of the conversation. Mara glanced again at the harper. He put away his knife and winked at her before returning his attention to Andre and Angalyn.

The green rider was now sitting up straight and Andre was cutting her hair with an odd looking, very thin bladed knife that looked like it might fold in half. Angalyn's eyes were closed and she smiled magnificently. She was so relaxed; she might actually be close to sleep.

Andre actually giggled each time he let loose a handful of hair and it immediately curled. He would then comb her hair and pull up another section between two long fingers, run the strange knife along the underside of his fingers, and giggle again.

Mara found herself chuckling along with the other observers at the barber's antics, and began to wonder if his 'act' wasn't all just for show. She carefully lowered her shields again to _hear_ his thoughts, and was wonderfully surprised to hear him analyzing the reactions of his audience. She stopped _listening_ when he wondered about her odd behavior.

Angalyn's final hairstyle was short, but not too much so, feminine, and easy to care for. After a long look in a large handheld mirror Andre held for her, Angalyn was thrilled, and even gave the little man a big hug.

Cally was next, though all she needed, according to Andre, was a quick rinse and a light trim. Someone had done a fine job with her hair in the recent past. Cally's smile faded a bit, but she wound up telling now attentive Andre all about how her mother would trim her hair every time she trimmed her father's.

"You must miss them terribly," said Andre most kindly as he held the mirror for her.

"I do." Cally sounded so fragile.

Andre placed the mirror carefully on the shelf behind Cally and then stood in front of her chair. Bending at the waist, he leaned forward until their faces almost touched. "I know it's not the same, sweetums, but you have a much bigger family now. And soon, you will learn just who to go to for anything you might need or want." He reached a hand up and ruffled her newly trimmed curls. "And if you ever need a little extra loving for your hair, you come to me, please?"

The last word was such an exaggerated plea; Cally had little choice but to giggle. She ran her arms around his neck – Bista was now on Mack's shoulder – and hugged him tight. "Thank you, Andre."

As Andre patted her back, Mara turned away to wipe tears from her eyes, and found both Mack and B'roghe sniffing and running their hands over their faces. Angalyn and D'don were whispering to each other, and Bista was crooning soothingly. Mara grinned knowingly as each of the men caught her looking and cleared their throats as their faces went through several stages of frowns, scowls, and finally resigned smiles.

Cally walked back to the line of chairs, smiling, but still a bit sad from her memories. When Andre called for D'don, and the boy's eyes went wide, Cally grinned and helped him to his feet, and then took his place.

D'don, whose hair was rather shaggy, was given the option of 'dragonrider short' or 'just a bit more'. Not at all sure how short was 'dragonrider short', D'don looked to B'roghe for help.

"Definitely more than 'dragonrider short'," stated B'roghe authoritatively. "At least until we have to wear those leather helmets. Perhaps 'holder short'? He should keep those distinctive curls, or at least a fair hint."

Andre wasn't the only one surprised by the bronze rider's comments, but he was the first to speak. "Oooo, I love a man who knows his hair etiquette! 'Holder short' it is!" He guided D'don to the sink. "Let's give those darling curls one last bath."

D'don looked about to bolt when he turned his head to scowl to the others, mouthing, "Darling?"

As Andre gently pushed D'don backward until his neck rested on the rolled edge of the sink, he ooo'd and ahh'd over D'don's lovely curls. As he started massaging the boy's head, he said, "Curls like these belong to the girls, though you are certainly pretty enough to be a little girl." As D'don's legs began to flail trying to sit up, Andre kept him pressed against the sink. "Close those pretty eyes now, darling. We don't want any sand in them."

D'don actually groaned as if in pain, and then moaned as Andre's well practiced hands massaged his scalp. Laughter from the audience helped him realize that Andre was just teasing; he wasn't actually hurting him, or even touching him inappropriately. Oh, Great Faranth, did that feel good.

Washing done, D'don – on unsteady legs – was led to another chair for his 'styling'. Andre stood behind him, combed a large chunk of hair from just above the forehead, ran his strange knife across, and dropped a good hands-width length of curls on D'don's covered lap.

The green riders giggled mercilessly at D'don's expression. His eyes were wide enough to show white all around the dark, and then nearly disappeared as he tried to see what was being done above.

"Perhaps a little longer, Andre?" teased Mack.

"Too late now," quipped Andre as he dropped another mass of curls on the boy's lap.

D'don closed his eyes with a heavy sigh. Too late now to change his mind. Might as well take whatever was coming. He had almost relaxed when Andre gasped as he made a cut along the side.

"Oh, look! His hair is much darker than I would have ever guessed!"

"What?" asked D'don.

Andre tittered as he explained. "Only the top and outside has been bleached by the sun. The sides are much darker!" When D'don groaned again, Andre tried to soothe him. "Oh, don't worry, darling. We can either bleach the sides or dye the top. You decide when I'm done."

The teasing continued with discussions of the various plant, animal, and insect products that could be used to change the color of one's hair, or skin. The discussion also covered possible side effects of each substance, much to D'don's dismay.

When Andre finished – far quicker than one might imagine – he held up his mirror for D'don to inspect his work. His free hand resting on his cocked hip, his eyes rolled a bit as he waited, not too patiently, for D'don's verdict.

The young blue rider ran his hands over his much shorter hair. He turned his head from side to side, and dipped to see the top, his smile growing by the moment. The color difference wasn't nearly as pronounced as Andre had hinted. "Wow! Thanks, Andre!"

The little man danced in place. "Oh, good! Now, should we dye the top, or bleach the sides?"

"Neither," answered D'don. "I like it the way it is. Thank you very much."

"Oh, poo." Andre's disappointment changed instantaneously to hope. "Do I get a big hug now?"

D'don almost panicked, but grinned instead as he held out his hand. "How 'bout a handshake?"

Andre grimaced for just a moment before placing his fingers against the boy's palm. He squeezed the smaller hand between fingers and thumb as he huffed, "Well. From a darling boy like you, anything is better than nothing."

D'don gently, but forcefully, removed his hand from Andre's strange grasp. "We need to get back to the barracks, don't we?" He looked pleadingly at Mara and B'roghe.

"Yes, we do," declared B'roghe as he stood to leave, reaching for D'don to join him.

"But, you're next, handsome!"

B'roghe bowed slightly as he backed out of the little cave. "I'm quite satisfied with my hair just as it is, sir. Thank you." He bowed again as D'don reached him, placed an arm around the boy's shoulders, and quickly left.

"Harper man?"

Now, Mack backed out of the shop. "I'm on escort duty, Andre. Perhaps another time? Come along, ladies."

As each of the green riders hugged the little man trying to cheer him up, Mara also backed out of the shop. Andre wriggled his fingers and winked at her just before saying farewell to the green riders.

"Do come back, my little curly tops. Oooo, how I love working with curly hair!"

Except for giggles and chuckles, everyone was quiet until they reached the bowl. A few steps into the bowl, B'roghe let out a gusty breath. When the others looked at him, he shrugged. "I can honestly say that I have _never_ met anyone like Andre before this day."

Mack chuckled wickedly. "You haven't been in the Weyr very long, have you, boy?"

B'roghe's darting eyes caused everyone to laugh. Realizing he'd been had, again, B'roghe finally joined them.

The young girls teased 'darling' D'don all the way back to the barracks, commenting on his lovely, multi-colored curls. B'roghe, when D'don seemed about to snap, complemented him on his very distinguished appearance, which earned him comments about his 'hair etiquette'. He would then thank the two 'curly tops' and the cycle would start all over again.

Mara and Mack walked several paces behind the others.

_So, did you learn anything else?_

Mara grinned at the harper. _I learned that Andre is not who he seems to be._

_Good. Despite his flamboyant act, he is actually a very intelligent, resourceful, and discreet . . . person. He's someone you can rely on if you ever need help._

_I'll remember that._

_Outside Benden Weyr, he's a target for quite a few unsavory characters, due to previous assignments._

_Understood._

_Good. He really is a good . . . person._

_You're uncomfortable around him._

_I'm holdbred, but I do try to accept him as he is._ Mack studied the tall woman for a few steps._ You're holdbred. Why doesn't he bother you?_

_Maybe because I'm not a man? There were few like him in Keroon, sometimes. I always wondered how they could be so happy and carefree, but they seemed to disappear pretty quick._

_Not many outside the Weyrs are willing to accept their kind._

Mara waited another few steps._ You're not telling me something._

_You're very observant. And you're being summoned._

Mara was indeed being summoned, or at least impatiently waited for. Cally bounced just outside their weyr. Angalyn and D'don flanked her, the girl smiling, D'don not. B'roghe stood behind the trio shaking his head.

"We're gonna take a bath!" The bouncing green rider was thrilled with her idea. "D'don and Angalyn haven't seen Benden Weyr's bathing pools yet."

"D'don doesn't appear to share your enthusiasm," said Mack dryly.

"Oh, he's a boy!" Cally seemed to think that explained the problem.

Everyone laughed as D'don dramatically rolled his eyes.

B'roghe clapped the boy on the shoulders. "Do you like to swim, D'don?" When the boy nodded his head, B'roghe tempted him. "Benden's pools are nearly as big as a small pond. Quite enjoyable, despite all the soapsand."

With D'don's reluctant agreement, the weyrlings quickly found clean clothing and waited for Mack to retrieve fresh clothing from his visitor's quarters nearby. They all waited in the weyrling barracks while B'roghe gathered his own clean garments.

As they entered the bathing area, B'roghe announced, "Girls coming through!" Noise within increased as they entered. Holdbred lads had been given the opportunity to cover up or sink into the pools, while weyrbred lads laughed at the modesty of their fellow weyrlings. Two young lads of the several walking around made quite a show of displaying their male attributes to the new girls. Cally stared wide-eyed, Angalyn blushed and looked away, and Mara grinned at the very young boys.

One large pool was separated from the others by a thick, opaque plastic curtain hanging from a water-resistant skybroom wood frame. Mara guided the girls in that direction while B'roghe mock scolded the young exhibitionists.

B'roghe, of course, understood the intellectual reasons for weyrfolk's lack of modesty, but also understood the sensitivities of young holdbred girls, and boys. While he had no trouble stripping in front of boys or other men, it would take considerably more time to overcome his learned modesty out in the lake.

As the girls shed their clothing - Angalyn quite modestly, and Cally and Mara less so – Angalyn was nearly in tears. "Why do they do that?"

Cally looked at Mara, at a loss to help her new friend, and curious as well.

"Do what, dear?"

"Why do they try to scare us like that?"

"Do you have brothers, Angalyn?"

"I have an older brother, but he left before Mama died."

"Well, I had two little brothers. And I don't think they're trying to scare you; I think they're just trying to get your attention, and if they know that bothers you, they'll do it even more."

The girl's scowl left no doubt as to her opinion on that possibility. And she barely noticed as her friends helped her into the pool, one on either side.

As they sank into the warm water, Mara held one hand up. "I try to imagine having extra skin" she wriggled her fingers "all tied up close inside my trousers." She made an awkward fist, thumb inside fingers, and shuddered. "I think I might want to flap it in the wind once in a while, too." She opened her hand, spread and wriggled her fingers, and waved them through the air.

Cally giggled, but Angalyn gawked, trying to imagine the same. After a moment, she started giggling too, and then turned to her now hysterical little friend. "Cally!"

Cally laughed out loud. Hand waving in the air, she stood up and fell backwards into the water.

When she surfaced, Mara dunked her again – after she took a breath – with one big hand on top of her head much to Angalyn's amusement. As Cally came back up, Mara held her arm to steady her. "We better hurry. Our dragons could wake up anytime now."

Still giggling, the girls all scrubbed what they could quickly. When Mara offered to wash Angalyn's back, the girl seemed embarrassed until Cally asked her to scrub her back. So, Mara carefully washed tender new scars and gently scrubbed uninjured skin while Angalyn scrubbed Cally's back and then both green riders attacked Mara's back and giggled even more at her appreciative moans of pleasure.

Mara would have liked to soak for awhile, but left the pool quickly and turned to help Angalyn. The girl was still quite stiff and sore from the bruises discoloring most of her frail body.

"We better get you coated in numbweed before Nayrith wakes up." Mara caught the girl as she tripped on nothing.

"It is starting to hurt again."

Cally offered her learned opinion. "We'll take care of it in the weyr. You should be good and dry by then."

The girls dressed quickly and then helped Angalyn to finish up, Cally inspecting her back before letting Mara drop her tunic. Mara picked up all their dirty clothing while Cally restocked the poolside supplies and picked up the dirty cleaning and drying cloths.

Before leaving the curtained area, Mara followed B'roghe's earlier example. "Girls coming through!" There wasn't nearly as much noise; as they walked through the bathing area, they found that most of the boys had already left and only a few were sunken deeply into the pools.

As Cally dropped the cloths into the collection basket, Angalyn couldn't control a groan. The bath had really felt good, but now the numbweed was all gone. Mara handed Cally the dirty clothing. "How about another dragonback ride?"

"That'd be nice. Thank you."

As the girls left the bathing area, they found Mack, D'don and B'roghe sitting on a cot in the weyrling barracks. B'roghe excused himself, saying that Dandreth was waking. Mack and D'don grinned, but let him go and joined the girls to walk back to the weyr.

Quite a few weyrlings looked away as they passed, but some just grinned. D'don and Cally kept Angalyn occupied with talk about their dragons.

_Extra skin?_ asked Mack.

Mara turned her head to study the side of the Weyr bowl. _Nosy harper?_

Mack chuckled. _B'roghe nearly drowned._

_Doesn't he have sisters? _

_I dare you to ask him._

As they entered the Istan weyr, Mara informed the males that they, the females, would be taking over the necessary for a while and walked straight down the new hallway. Cally stopped in the inner weyr for her healer's supplies and joined them.

Angalyn forgot about any modesty as her weyrmates helped her strip and began to lather numbweed over her back, sides and then each of the bruises on her arms, torso, and legs. She had to stand in the open air for a little bit while the numbweed set up, but Cally kept her distracted by occasionally flapping her hand around, which caused Angalyn to either giggle or scold depending on where Cally flapped her hand.

Once Angalyn was bandaged and dressed, the girls found Mack and D'don discussing the harper's tin whistle out near the entrance to the weyr, Bista accompanying any demonstrations.

The lot of them walked to the other side of the lake where their dragons still napped. Mack played a spritely tune on his whistle most of the way to the delight of everyone they passed. His whistle barely whispered each time they passed sleeping dragons, though.

The Istan weyrlings sat down and talked quietly until their dragons woke, one by one. They all played together until itching and hunger became a hindrance, and then they bathed, thoroughly oiled, and fed their little ones before heading back to their shared weyr. Mack helped Angalyn as even her numbed limbs couldn't reach as far as they should.

B'roghe and Dandreth asked to join them. Mara _heard_ the bronze weyrling's concern for D'don's comfort in a weyr full of girls. As all the Istan dragons found their places near their rider's chosen or assigned cots, the girls invited the boys into their larger quarters. Moving one cot formed a square with the dragon couch, where the boys chose to sit, forming the fourth side.

When Mara dug out L'ret's transcripts from under her pillow – Cally hadn't wanted to risk anything happening to the weyrlingmaster's hides – B'roghe asked if a few more classmates might join them; some had been in shock for days after impression. With everyone's approval, including and especially Mack's, B'roghe ran to the weyrling barracks and soon returned with a brown rider, a blue rider, and two girl green riders, both of whom still looked somewhat shocked.

After reviewing the titles of each of the four transcripts, B'roghe suggested they start with lesson one, as each lesson – if his memory served – fed into the next. He also suggested they take turns reading, so they would all become familiar with Weyrlingmaster L'ret's handwriting. Each weyrling read a full paragraph and then B'roghe would ask if there were any questions.

When it came Mara's turn to read, she blushed mightily – all these youngsters were good readers – but did her best. A not quite silent chuckle angered B'roghe; he reminded everyone that not all holds value literacy like they should. He then asked Mara if she had ever been harper trained. The chuckler apologized profusely when they learned she'd had no harper training until barely two sevendays ago. All the youngsters were silent and far more respectful as Mara finished her paragraph, some even jumping to her side to help with words she was unfamiliar with.

Mara got through her paragraph and several more – the first lesson was a rather lengthy history of dragons and the dragon/rider bond. There followed a rather lengthy discussion; few yet realized that dragons had been engineered from fire lizards.

As the discussion wound down, the boys and girls seemed to separate, each to opposite sides of the square. The young girls started giggling, which made the young boys a bit nervous. When Mara _listened_ to the girls' whispers, she decided to get this issue out in the open.

"Weyrling B'roghe," she said loud enough for all to hear.

B'roghe immediately grew suspicious. He had a good idea what the girls were whispering about. But what was Mara up to? He didn't know her well enough to trust her completely just yet. "Yes, Weyrling Mara."

"Do you have sisters?" she asked matter-of-factly.

"I do." He now had a better idea where she was going and was not excited about following.

"Have you ever seen them undressed?" This caused some shocked gasps and giggling from both sides of the square.

"We never shared a bathing area!"

"Hmm." He didn't answer the question! That would make this easier. "Weyrlife must be a real shock to you, then."

"And it isn't for you?" All the younger weyrlings fell silent, some fearing B'roghe's challenge might lead to trouble, and some just extremely curious.

Mara shrugged. "I raised two younger brothers."

"That only explains half the story."

"I caught them peeking quite a few times." That caused a few gasps from the girls, and some blushing from some of the boys.

B'roghe let out a gusty, "Ha! We would have been beaten near to death if we were ever caught peeking." All the boys nodded in agreement.

"Did you ever get caught?" Mara grinned at the shocked bronze rider.

B'roghe's jaw dropped in surprise. He began blushing, and eventually returned her grin. "My older brothers taught me well."

Mara nodded thanks, _hearing_ that he understood, at least partially, her goal. "Uh huh. I wonder why it's all right for boys to peek, but not girls."

B'roghe's chin rose in righteous indignation. "It's not proper either way."

"Then how are youngsters supposed to learn about being adults?"

"Good parents explain things when the time is right."

"And those with not so good parents are left to be afraid of what happens to their bodies, and of mating? Or are they expected to learn by 'peeking'?" When he seemed genuinely shocked at the realization that such might be the case in less than ideal families, she forged on. "And what happens if a 'properly trained' boy finds an injured girl, or woman? Does he let her bleed because it isn't proper to remove her gown?"

B'roghe hesitated as the youngsters all started whispering to each other. Remembering some of the meetings he had eavesdropped on when he was much younger, he shook his head. "It has happened, so I've heard."

Mara gave him an almost pitying look. "I hope you can get used to weyrlife before a girl dragonrider needs your help."

Everyone, including Mack on the other side of the wall, gasped.

The double impact of imagining losing a dragonrider and her dragon caused B'roghe to blanch. "I will." He looked at each of the other holdbred youngsters in the room – his breath catching at each of the girls – and then back at Mara. "We will!"

All the weyrlings nodded agreement. Brave little Cally stated what was now obvious – even if uncomfortable – to all. "We have to!"

Benden's weyrlings left the Istan weyr shortly afterwards. The youngsters all found their cots, but B'roghe sought out Weyrlingmaster L'ret. They, and a couple of younger assistants who had been holdbred, spoke for nearly a candle-mark about how to overcome learned, but potentially dangerous modesty.

* * *

All reviews are greatly appreciated!

Thanks again for reading.


	19. A Family Visit

Still not mine. Ah well.

Sorry for the delay. One conversation had me temporarily stymied.

* * *

Mara woke the next day just as the weyr began to lighten. _Two days in a row_, she thought, and started feeling confident she had finally adjusted to Benden's earlier time zone.

Klamath was sound asleep and comfortable, as were the other dragons and her young weyrmates. She _listened_ a little further and found that L'terick was sitting guard duty this morning and working on Quinteth's riding harness, L'ret was just rousing from his cot and wondering when the klah maker with a timer he had ordered would be ready, and Normond and his rider were already scanning the bowl from their weyr ledge.

Mara quickly refocused toward the north. There was activity in the kitchens and the healer's caverns, and the watch rider and his dragon were sound asleep, and – oops – Lessa was awake. Mara stopped listening.

She rolled carefully from her cot and stood slowly, hoping to avoid any popping, and was disappointed almost immediately. To avoid waking anyone, she hobbled, still half bent over, out of the girls' side of the weyr. L'terick grinned almost compassionately as she made her way out of the weyr. Straightening up noisily, she grinned at his pained grimace. Once fully erect, she looked up at the star stones, about to ask what would happen if the watch rider fell asleep, when she noticed Quinteth hovering just below the plateau.

"What's Quinteth doing?"

Now L'terick's grin turned almost evil. "Helping Mnementh," he said calmly.

Mara watched in fascination. She heard Mnementh's calm _Now,_ and watched as Quinteth rose quickly to perch on the edge of the plateau, wings spread wide and lifted high as he breathed fire to a spot seemingly just below his left wingtip. Mnementh apparently did the same from the other side; from this angle, it looked as if Quinteth's wings might catch fire. Within a heartbeat, an alarmingly loud, frightened bugle and a matching scream came from above. Hearty laughter from high on this end of the Weyr echoed through the entire bowl.

"I wager they'll find a way to stay awake from now on," said L'terick calmly. "And they'll get plenty of practice."

Mara shook with silent laughter and shook her head. "I will remember this when we stand watch duty!"

L'terick nodded. "Good."

When his eyes glanced briefly at her legs, Mara suddenly realized she was wearing only a lightweight long tunic. Ah well, she thought. It didn't seem to bother him, and she surely couldn't have gotten dressed without waking her weyrmates. "I better get ready for the day. Maybe I can beat the weyrlingmaster to the bowl?"

"Too late," said L'terick as he stood and looked past Mara.

Mara turned to see L'ret walking a bit stiffly this direction.

L'ret nodded at the weyrling. "Mara."

Mara nodded at the man. "Weyrlingmaster."

"Sleep well?" he asked.

"Yes, sir. And you?"

He nodded again. "Quite well. Carry on." And he kept walking right past the weyr entrance.

Mara sighed at the sight of her retreating weyrlingmaster and looked at L'terick, who merely grinned and sat back down. Mara shrugged and walked toward the inner weyr to prepare for another training day.

Starting her day early had become a lifelong habit. Early morning was so quiet and peaceful – and her father had always slept late. She enjoyed the freedom to leave her weyr by herself, not something she had been permitted in Keroon, though she had often snuck out early to find greens, wild tubers, or nut meats in the nearby forest. Her father seldom asked where any of their food had come from, preferring to believe that he provided all they ever needed – a slab of meat each sevenday. What marks Mara earned on the docks, her father had taken control of because _he_ was the cot holder, not Mara. She had learned very early to hide part of her wages to cover tithing, clothing, and other incidentals needed to maintain their small cot. The remainder had gone to the ale and wine vendors – and a meat vendor once a sevenday.

As she began her lap around Benden's bowl, she wondered how wages worked in a Weyr. Not that it was important, since the Weyr seemed to be providing everything she needed at the moment. But, she had heard some of the riders and weyrfolk talking about purchases they had made, so apparently there was some sort of extra compensation, unless the weyrfolk's marks all came from crafted items sold to the traders or at gathers. She hadn't noticed any sign of crafting projects in G'raden's weyr. Of course, she hadn't noticed much other than the man. But, those beautiful weavings – on the cot and covering the entrance – had to cost more than a mark or two. Maybe they had been gifts? She wondered who she could ask about wages, and quickly decided to not ask anyone; it wouldn't do to have anyone think she was the greedy sort. Besides, Benden Weyr was providing far more than she had ever had, and no one tried to make her feel guilty about any of it! But, she would find some sort of craft to take up as soon as possible; maybe some sort of stitching – she had mended quite a few trousers and tunics and even boots in Keroon. Or maybe she could find someone to teach her how to scent soapsand; she still remembered the wonderful scents her mother had worked with before Marky was born.

As she passed the kitchen on her morning walk and run, she spotted L'ret sitting near the raised table with F'lar and Lessa, all drinking klah. She wondered if they were talking about the sleeping watch pair, but did not _listen _in. It really wasn't her business, and she'd probably find out just as much by listening to the dragons; they were such gossips.

Rather than think about G'raden's . . . um weavings, or Keroon, Mara chose to listen to Benden's dragons during the remainder of her run. By the time she returned to her weyr, she knew that there were no clouds in the sky, but there was a mist over Benden Lake so no wild beasts were yet visible, what each dragon as they rose to the ridges thought about the potential warmth of the sun this day, who needed to hunt, bathe, or be oiled this day, and that perhaps the watch dragon's rider should not spend so much time with T'per, especially just before watch duty – quite a few of the dragon's riders had been startled awake by the sounds of alarm.

L'terick watched the brown weyrling as she ran – and walked – her morning lap. He noticed even from this distance – with some help from Quinteth – as her mood seemed to darken on the first half and then lighten considerably after passing the Living Cavern. He also noticed that she ran considerably farther than the last couple of days, but even as she grinned on the final stretch, she seemed near exhaustion.

"Good run," said the weyrlingmaster's assistant from the chair at the entrance to her weyr.

Mara shrugged. Surely he was teasing; she still ran like a trussed herd beast, no doubt. "It doesn't hurt as much as the first day."

He chuckled. "It will, if you try to sit too soon. I suggest you walk easy to the lake and back, and then soak in one of the pools until Klamath wakes."

Oh! That sounded so good; the soak, at least. "Yes, sir!"

L'terick laughed quietly at her apparent excitement. She was so easy to please, and seemed pleased by almost anything. As she started to turn toward the lake, L'terick stopped her. "Mara. What were you thinking about on your run?"

She took a deep breath. "I thought about the differences between Benden Weyr and Keroon, and then I listened to the dragons."

And she thought about something she didn't want to talk about. That's all right, thought L'terick as he nodded; there were no requirements to divulge one's personal thoughts, unless, of course, they caused a problem with one's dragon. "Have a pleasant walk."

"Thank you, sir."

On the leisurely walk to the lake, Mara thought about whether to pick up clean clothing before her bath, and decided against it; she would be bathing Klamath soon. She looked around the bowl as she walked, noticing more and more people walking or running laps. She watched the beast handlers as they fed the beasts. She smiled at a couple of riders washing their dragons in the lake, and she tried very hard to not look up the cliff at this end of the bowl. She had a strange feeling she was being watched, but refused to confirm her suspicions by looking up. Listening to the dragons helped relieve those strange feelings, but not completely. Oh, how she missed G'raden. Would he still want her to be his weyrmate nine or ten months from now? Listen to the dragons!

Some of the dragons were excited about a trip to Landing this morning. They all loved Landing, especially when they and their riders had time to bath in the warm ocean, and most especially when the dolphins and fire lizards helped.

Very few of the weyrlings were even stirring yet as Mara passed through the barracks. Apparently, they had not been disturbed by the disciplinary actions of Mnementh and Quinteth. No one was yet in the bathing area. She undressed and slid carefully into the curtained off pool, and listened to the dragons as she massaged her legs.

A few dragons would be taking their riders to Honshu later this day. Honshu was always nice, though it was a bit chilly this time of the Turn, but the sun was always warm. Other dragons would be transporting various holders or craft persons all over Pern. Some would be going to Western Weyr to learn more about sky watching or to help with the building of the Weyr or the Hall. And quite a few dragons would spend the day on the ridges, soaking up Benden Weyr's summer sunshine. But all were excited about what promised to be another wonderful day.

Normond's mental voice was as distinctive as his rider's. He was excited about taking his rider to Fort Hold's Healer Hall this day, and even more so about hunting afterwards. As his rider felt better and better, Normond was finding himself to be more and more hungry. Arlith and Parneth agreed that hunting after the trip to Fort would be an excellent idea.

And then Mara felt Klamath beginning to stir. He wasn't fully awake yet, but was just starting his ascent from a deep restful sleep. Mara hurried out of the pool and into her clothing. She very quickly prepared the pool for the next person and, grabbing the used cloths, rushed out of the curtained area . . . and literally ran into B'roghe.

B'roghe's bath last evening had been far too short in his opinion, due to D'don's anxiety over being around so many other boys; B'roghe would have to investigate that situation. The bronze weyrling had chosen the pool farthest from the entrance for a bit of privacy from the younger lads who would be waking soon. The farthest pool just happened to be next to the girls' curtained pool. B'roghe had just finished removing his clothing, and bent to pick up a sock that had fallen from his neatly folded stack. Something BIG hit him from behind and sent him sprawling to the rock floor. He rolled before hitting, and seeing Mara, instinctively covered his manhood with what was available – the rescued sock – and continued to roll onto his belly with a pained groan.

Mara was at his side immediately. How could she be so careless? How could she forget that others would be in the bathing area? She straddled B'roghe and bent over to check his head and neck. "Are you all right, B'roghe?"

"Please turn away." His voice was muffled by the rock floor.

"Did I hurt you?"

"Only my pride. Please be so kind as to turn away."

Mara gasped, just now realizing how embarrassed he must feel. She stood quickly and walked a few steps toward the entrance. "I'm sorry, B'roghe. I forgot to say I was coming through." How could she be so wherry-headed?

B'roghe chuckled without a trace of humor. "After last night's discussion, it shouldn't be necessary. I simply wasn't prepared for such a sudden and forceful test."

Without turning, Mara had heard the source of his voice raise from the floor. He was standing, so he couldn't be hurt too bad. "I'm sorry, B'roghe."

"Where are you headed in such a hurry? You can turn, by the way." He had tied a drying cloth around his waist. As she turned, he could see the anguish on her face and indeed in her whole body. She seemed near tears. "Whoa! No harm done, Mara. Truly. I have older brothers, after all, so I'm tougher than I might look."

"That doesn't excuse such carelessness. Are you truly all right?"

"I am, and you didn't answer my question. Why are you in such a hurry?"

"Klamath's about to wake up. I wanted to be there."

"You know when he's _about_ to wake up?"

"I feel him all the time. Don't you feel Dandreth?"

"Of course!" _When he's awake._ "You'd better go, just slow down!"

Mara was about to suggest he visit the healers – his shoulder looked as if it would bruise – but left instead after a respectful and apologetic nod to the bronze weyrling, at a much slower pace.

Quite a few weyrlings were just beginning to move around the barracks. Some had been roused by hungry or itchy dragons, and were stumbling with half consciousness. Mara righted a couple who bumped into her and would have fallen if she hadn't helped.

She walked a little faster once outside – Klamath was very near waking now – and wondered about what she'd _heard_ B'roghe not say. He'd impressed Dandreth here at Benden Weyr, so was likely properly searched, but he didn't feel Dandreth unless he was awake? Was that normal? Who could she ask? L'ret, of course; he should know all there is to know about dragons.

The bronze weyrling nodded at L'terick as she passed by, and hurried to the dragon couch, kneeling just before Klamath opened his outer lids.

_Mara!_

_Klamath!_

_I like morning!_

_So do I, my sweet heart! Are you ready to go outside?_

_Mynth and Nayrith and Gredarth are about to wake up. I don't want to hurry them._

_Then we can wait, my sweet love. _

While they waited for the others to wake, they discussed whether a bath should come first, or a bit of oil. And then Klamath questioned Mara on her uncharacteristically dour mood until his rider told him all the details of her encounter with B'roghe.

Mynth woke up first. It was a good thing she was on the outside of the draconic huddle; she bounced nearly as much as her rider. As the little green jumped off the couch and laid her head next to Cally's, the girl began giggling. She rose soon after, but both were fairly quiet in consideration of their still slumbering weyrmates.

Nayrith woke next, not in nearly as good humor as her sister. She moaned and complained that her back hurt.

Mara asked if it was her back or her rider's, but the little green couldn't tell the difference. Cally ran to the inner weyr for her healer's bag and started treating Angalyn's back, much to Nayrith's relief.

After a short, hushed discussion, Cally and Mara, with Nayrith's agreement, agreed that Angalyn should be allowed to sleep herself out again. Cally and Mara would take care of Nayrith until her rider was able. As far as D'don was concerned, they agreed that perhaps yesterday had been quite a strain on both he and Gredarth, so they, too, should be allowed to sleep in. L'terick, when consulted, was in complete agreement, and informed them he would stay at the weyr until it was vacant.

Because Nayrith still didn't fully trust that she would be fed anytime she was hungry, the girls started their care with a trip to the cold storage room. L'ret assigned K'remin to 'assist' the Istan weyrlings. The bronze rider fed Nayrith half a bucket of chunked herd beast while Klamath and Mynth were scrubbed thoroughly with the help of a full fair of wild fire lizards. Once Nayrith's belly no longer ached from emptiness, she joined her sister and brother and was also scrubbed and scratched until she crooned with delight.

Angalyn woke as the three little ones were almost fully oiled. Nayrith informed Mara, unnecessarily, but full of pride, that while Angalyn had been frightened at not seeing Nayrith, she had reached out instead of panicking this day. And D'don and Gredarth were talking to her as well. Shortly, D'don and Angalyn emerged from the weyr with Gredarth between them and L'terick smiling behind.

Angalyn finished oiling Nayrith and then kept K'remin company while the girls helped D'don bathe and oil Gredarth in record time.

Play time was next, with everyone reminding Nayrith to take it easy after eating so much, no one wishing to experience a draconic belly ache. So, this day, play was limited pretty much to 'follow the blue' as Gredarth explored all corners of the southern end of the massive bowl. When they returned from spooking the wherries – which spooked the dragonets just as thoroughly – resting under the trees near the southwestern edge of the lake, the Istan dragons, except Nayrith, joined in the games of the other weyrlings.

Nayrith sat, rather dejectedly, near her rider and K'remin, who watched the games and everyone involved very closely.

L'ret approached, a bit concerned for the one dragon sitting out of the games, but chuckled as Duranth explained the situation. "Weyrling Angalyn." He almost grinned when the surprised girl snapped to and gave a most satisfactory 'yes, sir'. "What's wrong with Nayrith? Why isn't she playing with the others?"

"She was hungry, so Mara and Cally gave her some meat."

"So, now she's too full to play?"

"Yes, sir."

L'ret dropped to one knee to address the little green. "We're all hungry when we first wake up, Nayrith." He was privately thrilled when she let him caress her cheek. "But some things are easier to do with an empty stomach. You'll soon learn, little darlin', that _no one _goes hungry at Benden Weyr."

Judging by the look on Angalyn's face, L'ret guessed that Nayrith wasn't the only one needing reassurance on that matter. He stood, eyeing the little rider critically. She maintained her poise, though, even as her eyes showed a bit of confused fear. "Have you seen the healers this morning, weyrling?"

"No, sir. But Cally put numbweed on my back. At least that's what Nayrith said." She seemed to shrink into herself with each word, as if she thought she might be rambling.

"That's a good start. Now, you and Mara will walk as quickly as you can – without causing any damage – to the healers."

"Yes, sir."

Having been summoned through Duranth, Mara and Klamath arrived in time to hear their orders. Mara spoke to L'ret for Angalyn's benefit. "Klamath is willing to keep company with Nayrith and Bronze Rider K'remin while we're gone, if that's all right, sir?"

"Very commendable, Klamath!" L'ret then turned to Nayrith. "You should walk, slowly, until it's time to finish your meal. The exercise will be good for those pretty little muscles." And he turned back to Klamath. "Perhaps you could sneak up on those wherries again. Duranth is pretty sure one of the handler's apprentices is napping with them."

Klamath's jaw dropped in a draconic smile as his eyes whirled with excitement. _We'll wake him up!_

Two weyrlings headed north while one bronze rider followed two stealthy little dragonets along the edge of the lake. The weyrlings' progress was slowed by the need to turn around to observe the dragonets performing their assigned task. Both laughed heartily when the bowl was filled with another mass of wherry squawking and one very surprised young human squeal.

Angalyn gleefully shared with Mara Nayrith's joy in successfully fulfilling a special mission. She turned more serious though, when she asked why the Istan weyrlings and their dragons were always being watched so closely.

Mara, trying to be as honest and open as possible, explained as gently as possible, how they had found fellis in the dragonets' meat two days earlier. She also explained that as they had no idea who would have done such a horrible thing, or why, that the Istans were staying together for mutual protection. And she let her know that the weyrlingmaster and the weyrleaders were doing everything in their power to find the culprit and to protect all the weyrlings and dragonets. She then explained the extra precautions they, the weyrlings with Istan dragons, were taking, including inspecting all food, never accepting food from anyone else, and never leaving one another alone.

Angalyn asked plenty of questions, considering different situations and possibilities. As a result, their remaining walk passed rather quickly.

Master Healer Tarminas seemed pleased to see young Angalyn again. He turned his minor wound cleansing over to an apprentice, and led the weyrlings to an examination room. After his careful inspection and treatment of all Angalyn's wounds and a quick look at Mara's leg wound, he was quite agreeable to familiarizing the green rider with the smell of fellis, and even shared with her the many effects of the drug in various – though non-specified – doses on both humans and dragons.

After heartfelt thanks to Master Healer Tarminas for his kind attentions and enlightenment, the girls left the healer's cavern in good spirits just as a bronze dragon not of Benden Weyr landed halfway between the Living Cavern and the Weyrwoman's weyr. Both weyrlings noticed two passengers, but Mara was unable to tell Angalyn who they were. They were about to turn south when a familiar voice called out.

"Mara!" As the bronze departed, F'lar waved for the weyrlings to join him.

With Lessa holding the arm of the oldest man, F'lar made introductions all around. Lord Holder Groghe and his oldest son, Steward of Fort Hold were here to visit with one of the weyrlings, one of the Steward's sons. As the Lord Holder did not wish to disrupt training, and refused a dragon-ride to the other end of the Weyr – he wasn't that shardin' old yet! – Mara and Angalyn were asked to escort the holders to their family member.

Lord Groghe and Steward Benoroghe were most congenial to the weyrlings on their mile-long walk, asking first young Angalyn and then Mara all about their dragons and how they had come to be at Ista Weyr on that momentous day, and finally how Mara had managed to impress a brown dragon.

Mara had been expecting this question, and had formulated as kind a response as she could manage. "I was just there, sir, helping in the kitchens. And Klamath chose me. But, please sir, don't ask that question of Klamath. When I explained that boy dragons normally choose boys, he got very upset." When they both asked why, she continued her practiced speech. "He says he felt me as soon as he hatched and that I'm his rider and that's the way it is, so why would he choose anyone else?"

Groghe stopped walking to study the big woman. Except for her size, she seemed as much a normal woman as any he had met; a bit simple perhaps, but quite normal. "But, you don't know why a brown would choose a woman?"

"No, sir, I don't."

"Would you change the situation if you could?" asked Benoroghe.

"No, sir, I would not!"

Both men harrumphed in unison, and continued walking toward the weyrling barracks.

Angalyn stumbled as the weyrlings tried to catch up, and wound up riding on Mara's back. When Lord Groghe eyed her contemptuously, Mara explained.

"Weyrling Angalyn was injured at Ista Weyr, sir. She's still quite sore."

"Ahh," said Groghe, and then turned a pleading look to his son.

Benoroghe rolled his eyes. "No, father, I will _not_ carry you in that manner!"

"Fardles!" declared the Lord Holder and then he winked at Angalyn and laughed when she giggled.

The steward changed their direction when Groghe pointed toward the lake. "There he is." His proud smile changed as sadness slowly shadowed his craggy features.

The weyrlings both tried to figure out who the Lord Holder's grandson might be. He had pointed toward a large group of weyrlings and dragons splashing each other as they 'worked' at bathing. None of the boys seemed to notice their approach. Mara was startled to the point of jumping when the old Lord Holder bellowed with remarkable zeal.

"Bandy boy!"

All the weyrlings and the weyrlingmaster's assistants, and the weyrlingmaster turned toward the source of the bellow. Several riders appeared at the openings of their weyrs as well, and when Mara turned to look, she saw quite a few people at the north end of the bowl turned this direction. Several weyrlings wandered out of the lake, dragons close by; some out of curiosity, and one in answer to a lifelong familiar call. Only one walked past the water's edge, and he veered slightly toward a collection of buckets, smoothly snatching up a tunic, and pulled it over his head as he continued walking in an almost arrogant manner, grinning ear to ear, his bronze dragon striding confidently alongside.

Lord Groghe chuckled as he studied the approaching boy and the quickly growing bronze, shaking his head slightly.

As the tall boy drew close enough to not be overheard by too many, he greeted his family. "Grafa! Father!"

Groghe pulled the boy into a quick, but strong hug, smacking him on the back once before letting go. "Bandaroghe, my boy! You look well. And Dandreth, you have doubled in size!"

"Its B'roghe now, father," said Fort's Hold Steward as he copied the Lord Holder's informal greeting.

"Or Bandaroghe. Or Bandy boy. I'll answer to anything my Lord Holder wishes to call me." B'roghe emphasized his grandfather's title as he glanced warningly at the two grinning weyrlings standing next to the Lord Holder. "What brings you two so far from beloved Fort Hold?"

"News," said his father cryptically.

"Family news," said Groghe with none of his previous joy.

Mara had no trouble coming up with an excuse to leave them to their family business. "If you'll excuse us please, Lord Holder Groghe, Steward Benoroghe, we have chores to do."

Groghe was most cordial, and even shook the big weyrling's hand, and reached up to shake the little weyrling's hand reaching over Mara's shoulder.

Benoroghe, though was rather insulted . . . for his son. "You'll not request leave of my son as well?"

Mara came close to making a wise crack, but quickly decided to be safe. She was still new to all this. She turned a worried look to B'roghe. "Should I?"

B'roghe's face scrunched. "No need." He turned to his father. "We're all weyrlings, father, and all lower than drudges." The last was said with a smile and a wink.

Mara offered awkward curtsies to each of the men. "It was an honor to meet you Lord Holder Groghe, Steward Benoroghe. Good day to you both." She nodded at B'roghe with a grin as she turned to carry Angalyn to the lake.

"Though technically," said B'roghe loud enough to stop Mara. "I am three days your senior."

Mara turned slowly, pretending annoyed disbelief, faced B'roghe squarely and looked down her nose at him – not an easy task with a young girl straddling one's back.

"Though you are considerably older, so . . ." B'roghe's emphasis on the adverb caused both visitors to draw quick breaths.

"And I'm bigger than you!" stated Mara with mock warning.

Benoroghe gasped in shock at the perceived threat, but Groghe burst into laughter as the weyrlings seemed to glare at each other while Angalyn grinned and bit her tongue.

B'roghe's face darkened just enough that his grandfather knew there was a story to accompany that statement. Then he cocked his head as if irritated, and slowly grinned. "We're all weyrlings, and all lower than drudges."

Brown and bronze weyrlings nodded agreeably at each other before the big woman carried the little green weyrling away.

A few steps away, Groghe could be heard plainly saying, "Relax, Benny. Weyrs are not Holds. You really need more exposure to them, and to their people. Let's walk a little way B'roghe, Dandreth."

Mara turned her head toward Angalyn's, perched on her right shoulder. "We were _not_ meant to hear that."

"So we shouldn't ever talk about it?"

"Right."

Angalyn smiled. "I like Lord Holder Groghe."

The girls made their way toward the far end of the lake, where Klamath and Nayrith watched their classmates playing. The exuberance of the exercises had diminished significantly, and several dragons – most notably the younger Istan dragons – had already dropped out and were looking for good napping areas.

Morning meal was ready before all the dragons were bedded down, so a few weyrlings were excused from the marching formation. Adjustments were made and sometimes explained before the newest class of Benden dragonriders were marched to the dining cavern. Again, it was _suggested_ the weyrlings stay quiet until seated. This morning, no one tested the weyrlingmaster's ears.

B'roghe, with his family, joined the morning diners late. Groghe and Benoroghe were invited to the head table, but B'roghe found a place at the weyrlings' tables, across from Mara and next to D'don. He appeared quite distracted and even a bit angry. His eyes were more moist than usual, but his face was an unreadable stone mask.

"Is everything all right, B'roghe?" asked Mara when the younger Istan weyrlings became quiet.

After looking up, it took a moment for B'roghe to force a smile. "I would prefer to consider the news I've just received before discussing it."

He was hurting inside; Mara didn't even have to _listen_ to know that. She nodded and offered a sympathetic smile. "Understood." And then she distracted the others around them with talk of their dragons, and classes, and games.

B'roghe in the meantime, stared at his food, only occasionally taking a small bite. He alternately fumed with rage and shed a few tears, effectively salting his remaining porridge. His favorite cousin, a boy he had grown up with and shared all the most important milestones with, had died the previous day in a senseless, stupid, careless accident. Radoghe had always been impulsive and daring and ridiculously careless. But he had been B'roghe's best friend, and was always easily curbed by Bandaroghe's constant, instinctive awareness of consequences. Perhaps, thought B'roghe at one point, his cousin would still be alive if he hadn't accepted search. But that was ridiculous; no man should cut off his own potential for the sake of another. He may have failed his cousin, but he – with Dandreth – had the potential to save so many more.

Before the end of the meal, B'roghe had come to somewhat acceptable terms with his loss. He would miss Radoghe terribly; he had so looked forward to telling him all about wonderful Dandreth. But, in the end, Radoghe had chosen his own fate, always defiantly refusing to look at possible – or even likely – consequences of his actions.

A good natured argument about which young dragon would take flight first caught B'roghe's attention. He turned his mind to analyzing what he knew about dragons, and listened with a smile as the others debated whether size, color, rider, or personality would most likely affect a dragon's desire to take to the air. When he noticed Mara staying out of the conversation, and occasionally glancing his way, he caught her eye and nodded appreciatively. He'd never considered an older woman to be a friend – a friendly acquaintance perhaps – but this one was showing promise.

All the weyrlings in the immediate vicinity quieted as B'roghe sat up straight, puffing out his chest as he rose, and glared at everyone else. "Dandreth will fly first!" When he caught Mara's doubtful glare, he shrugged, and winked, and then laughed at the confusion such a declaration caused.

* * *

Isn't B'roghe neat? If it weren't for G'raden . . . Of course, he is a bit young.

Reviews are welcome, _greatly_ appreciated, and needed for continued encouragement.

:)


	20. A Steward's Continuing Education

Thank you! to all who are reviewing this story (and the others). You are the wind beneath my draconic wings!

* * *

The weyrlings were marched back to the south end of the bowl in their separate class formations. L'ret stayed behind, though, at the weyrleaders' request. Steward Benoroghe had been convinced – after Groghe's sometimes humorous self-recriminations over his lack of proper, well rounded training for his oldest son, and after F'lar's and Lessa's most generous and kind offers of assistance, and after considerable discussion of how Fort Hold would surely survive a day in the hands of a mere Lord Holder and his many other well-trained sons – to spend a day at Benden Weyr to learn more about Weyr politics, attitudes, and of most interest to Fort Hold's Steward, discipline. L'ret was asked to begin Benoroghe's Weyr education while the weyrleaders took care of a few other matters. Later, Benoroghe would be introduced to other Weyr personnel, and eventually be able to spend time with the weyrleaders.

As they walked toward the weyrling barracks in silence, L'ret was a bit irked at having his day disrupted with escort duties. Duranth reminded him though, how the unexpected always made their jobs more interesting. With a silent chuckle, the weyrlingmaster tried to break the silence. "What interests you most about Weyr-life, Steward Benoroghe?"

The Steward was temporarily at a loss for words; he had absolutely no interest in Weyr-life beyond the dealings necessary for the protection of Fort Hold. But his father was a very wise man, and would not be satisfied with, or fooled by a half-hearted attempt at appeasement. What interested him most? "Discipline." Or the lack thereof. He tried for a tactful elaboration. "One would assume, Weyrlingmaster L'ret, that dragonriders would be extremely disciplined, but . . ." L'ret's raised eyebrows did nothing to encourage his continuation. Sheer determination was required. "What I've witnessed thus far," he motioned back at the dining cavern, "seems to contradict that assumption."

"Ahh." L'ret nodded understanding. "A common misperception, Steward Benoroghe. What you've witnessed thus far is off-duty activity. Being a dragonrider is an often dangerous, stressful and very unpredictable occupation. Such 'lack of discipline' is permitted during off-duty periods as a form of compensation and release, you might say. Discipline during various duties is quite different. Weyrling training instills almost unquestioned discipline in all but the most hopeless of pairs."

"Almost unquestioned? I should think you would strive for complete obedience."

L'ret smiled. A demonstration was already in the planning stages as he said, "Dragonriders with a drudge mentality don't live long, Steward Benoroghe. They all need to think for themselves, quickly, but with the best interests of their teammates and their overall function always in mind."

"But, the weyrlings I've met so far . . ."

"And who have you met this day, sir?"

"My son of course, and that woman brown rider – Mara, is it? – and a young green rider. I don't recall her name."

L'ret laughed gently, without rebuke. "Then you've met only the newest weyrlings. Discipline training is a bit slower in this occupation than it might be in any other." Benoroghe's obvious confusion prompted more. "The first few days after impression are the most wonderful, and the most fatiguing days in any rider's life, both physically and emotionally. We give new weyrlings time to adjust to having another living creature share their thoughts, their feelings and their very lives. Discipline training starts on day one of course, but only intensifies after the dragon/rider bond is strengthened. Too much forced discipline too early can damage, and in extreme cases, even sever the connection between the rider and his or her dragon."

"I see. But, those two other weyrlings seemed so . . . untrained . . . in any proper manner."

"Riders aren't searched, or even chosen, based on their past education. They are searched based on their potential, as determined by the search dragons, or in some cases like Mara's and Angalyn's, by the hatchlings. Mara, after her sixth turn, was never permitted any Harper training, or even much socialization. Two sevendays ago, she couldn't even read or write. Now, she enjoys reading and asking questions about the Charter of Pern and my class transcripts. Angalyn is a bit better trained. She was properly Harper trained until two turns ago. When her mother died, her father dressed her as a boy and they both hired on as ship hands off the coasts of Ista."

Benoroghe blanched at the thought of such a pretty little girl in such a situation. But, he took L'ret's point, and nodded his understanding. Weyrlings would be from all sorts of backgrounds with varying levels of previous training.

"All weyrlings are provided proper Harper training; some more than others. And all weyrlings are eventually trained in proper etiquette. I will not apologize for the weyrlings you met this day, Steward Benoroghe. They weren't blatantly rude, were they? I didn't think so. They've both made remarkable progress in the very short time they've been at Benden Weyr. And your son has had considerable positive influence, in less than a day, on an equally disadvantaged and equally promising young blue rider."

Benoroghe blanched again. "A blue rider? Don't they prefer the company of men?"

"Argh!" blustered L'ret. "Hold prejudices!" As angry as such a statement made the weyrlingmaster, the well trained dragonrider held his tongue in the presence of such a high ranking visitor.

The Steward had to quicken his pace to keep up with the weyrlingmaster. "My apologies, Weyrlingmaster L'ret. I intended no offense. Perhaps you would enlighten me on yet another misconception?"

L'ret stopped and turned to study the ranking idiot. He did seem sincere, at least, so perhaps all he needed was indeed more education in the realities of Weyr-life. It certainly wouldn't hurt to have more understanding within the ranks of the almighty Holders. "Blue dragons are the most sensitive of any of the colors. That's why they tend to be the best search dragons. They are nearly as fast and as maneuverable as the greens, but tend to be far less impulsive than the greens. The riders they choose to impress tend to be equally sensitive – something we humans seem to consider a feminine attribute – and far more emotionally stable than those chosen by greens. Yes, some of them prefer the company of men, but not all of them. Circumstances of Pern's past do, however, tend to turn some of them, and some brown and bronze riders, in that direction."

Once again Benoroghe blanched as his mind raced through the possible mated pairings, only now realizing that L'ret himself must have had several encounters with male green riders, before girls were permitted to impress. "But . . ."

"A dragonrider does what is necessary for his or her dragon's emotional health, and does not regret it."

"I see." Fort's highly proper Steward nearly lost his balance as a newfound respect and sympathy for dragonriders took shape in his once smoothly walled mind. Wide, fearful eyes sought out the weyrlingmaster as he began to wonder about his son's future.

L'ret, seeing the trail Benoroghe's mind had stumbled down, smiled with far more gentleness. "The compensations, Steward Benoroghe, far outweigh any minor, occasional inconveniences. Our dragons will love us unconditionally for the rest of our lives. Do you have that, sir?" He took only slight satisfaction in finally shattering the mighty Steward's once stony, though easily paled, mask.

Benoroghe's first response was defensive anger. Of course he had that! His whole family loved him. But . . . unconditionally? Benoroghe was habitually – and sometimes embarrassingly – honest, and had to admit now that things could change, even in his close-knit family. He closed his eyes, belatedly hoping to hide his confusion from the brown rider before him, and laughed at himself, and his father. Prior to this day, Benoroghe had had very little contact with even Fort Weyr, always being too busy learning about and then seeing to the smooth operation of Fort Hold. His brothers had been far more interested in the excitement of Fort Weyr. His father had always said that understanding was a key component of peaceful coexistence, and now Benoroghe was being force fed a new understanding of a lifestyle he had always considered somehow inferior. But, based on what, he now wondered. His own father had the utmost respect for all dragonriders, regardless of dragon color. So, where had Benoroghe's notions of weyr-life come from? He decided to study that question far more deeply as soon as he returned to Fort Hold; these prejudices could not be allowed to color peoples' minds, especially now, when his own son had freely chosen this lifestyle.

Benoroghe opened his eyes to a smug, but concerned man with twinkling eyes. He shook his head and chuckled lightly. "No, sir, I do not have that, and I'm not at all sure I am brave enough to pay the price for such luxury."

"Some aren't, you know, especially after experiencing their family's shame. But, we accept everyone's preferences, try to alleviate their fears, give them an alternate 'family', and constantly remind them of their duty to their dragons."

"And what becomes of those who cannot accept that particular duty?"

"There is only one way out of being a dragonrider. Few choose to end their lives, but some become so distracted by their fears or their shame, they lose concentration during Threadfall. Those who cannot accept that particular duty tend to not survive their first turn in the fighting wings."

Again Benoroghe blanched, and was grateful for the weyrlingmaster's supportive hand on his arm. He was far from a frail man, though not as well muscled as some of his brothers, but at this moment a slight wind could knock him over. What had he taught his son about such things? Would Bandaroghe - B'roghe, he corrected – be able to pay that price to be a dragonrider?

"B'roghe is highly intelligent, surprisingly open-minded, and has a very positive outlook on life in general. He will be fine, Steward Benoroghe. Besides, there are far more female green riders now." No need to mention the still depressing percentages; that would not serve to calm this obviously worried – and to L'ret's mind, worthy – father.

L'ret gently turned the still wobbly, but nodding man toward a line of marching weyrlings. The youngest – newest, L'ret reminded himself – weyrlings were now in class, so would not witness this little demonstration. When Benoroghe seemed calm enough to recognize what he was seeing, L'ret raised his free arm and waved at the assistant in charge.

The assistant nodded with a smile, but otherwise seemed to ignore the weyrlingmaster. Benoroghe watched as the line of weyrlings was marched in intersecting loops, crisscrossing each other's paths with nary a mishap, and listened as L'ret explained.

"These weyrlings' dragons are already flying, but not yet with their riders. So they've learned a great deal of discipline and teamwork, and are beginning to truly appreciate their roles as protectors of their dragons' wellbeing." As he spoke the line of weyrlings was marched closer and closer to the far wall of the deep bowl. "New weyrlings often have trouble asserting themselves even when their dragon's health is at stake." The line was now headed straight at the wall. Benoroghe gasped as he saw what was happening, but L'ret put a hand on his arm and squeezed. "Watch." The weyrlings did not slow down, or even shorten their steps. As each came within a step of the wall, they would sidestep, crouch, and move away from the wall. Before long, the weyrlings were all standing in a quiet semicircle around the grimacing weyrlingmaster's assistant.

"Did they disobey orders?" asked Benoroghe. "And why were they ordered to march into the wall? They could have been hurt."

L'ret smiled proudly at the man. "They did not disobey orders. They followed orders to the letter . . . until just before they or their dragons might have been hurt. In weyrling training, the crouching you saw is equivalent to going _between_. They followed orders until they perceived too much danger and then went _between_ and returned to their leader."

"Have they done this before? They must have practiced this maneuver."

"They have never been marched into a wall before this day. They are trained to protect their dragons first, follow orders second, and always return home – or, in training, to their leaders – when in doubt." L'ret raised his arm again, and his thumb high.

The assistant's grimace disappeared as he congratulated the weyrlings on doing exactly what was expected of dragonriders. The weyrlings relaxed considerably, but still maintained order and paid close attention to the assistant.

"I see," said Benoroghe. "This would not work in a guard unit, though."

"That would depend on whether the guards had family to protect, and how well they work as a team. Do they care about each other's welfare? Or do they barely tolerate each other for the sake of their wages?" Benoroghe was so lost in thought; L'ret refrained from expanding what could easily be a candle-mark long lecture. Indeed, what he had said so far was merely a variation of one of his more advanced classes in leadership. "Later, we'll do the same exercise with the newest weyrlings," here, the weyrlingmaster broke into a grin. "And then we'll see how basic, untrained human instinct responds to such a predicament. It's also a good indicator of future leaders, and future problems within the class."

Now Benoroghe began to smile. "So, you not only train these young people, you test their potential."

L'ret could not resist pulling from that leadership class. "A good leader knows the potential of each of his – or her – team members." Not wishing to insult a future Lord Holder, L'ret attempted something closer to modesty. "But, of course, you know that! Perhaps I've been a weyrlingmaster for too long; I tend to lecture almost everyone."

Now Benoroghe laughed. "And perhaps I've been a Steward for too long. I know how many people we have, how many beasts, how many barrels of grain, and how to get an item moved from one place to another in the most efficient manner, but I seem to have forgotten the human component of my particular occupation. I am grateful for your insight, Weyrlingmaster L'ret."

"And now I see where young B'roghe learned his confidence and his humility, Steward Benoroghe. I am honored to be of assistance, sir."

Benoroghe grimaced in a comical manner. "Enough with the long title and name, sir. My friends call me Ben. I would be honored if you would do the same."

L'ret flushed slightly at such an honor. "If you'll call me L'ret, sir . . . Ben."

The men shook hands as if newly met after turns apart. L'ret then led Benoroghe to the weyrling barracks for a mostly uninterrupted tour, and then to his office.

In the office, the Steward carefully phrased his concerns regarding the lack of sufficient separation between male and female sleeping and bathing facilities.

L'ret nearly laughed, but refrained. "You should question your son on that issue, Ben. Just last evening, he instigated a rather lengthy discussion on that very subject. To be succinct; if one of our female green riders takes Thread across her chest, or a male across his groin, it would be in everyone's best interest if someone can help that rider to remove his or her clothing as quickly as possible to treat that score _without_ the distraction of 'high holder morals'. A dragon who thinks his or her rider is dying could easily go _between_ forever."

Benoroghe's further blanching at that thought prompted a slightly lighter tone. "That, combined with our dragons mating needs and choices, tends to loosen Weyr 'morals' considerably. Though, we do instill healthy respect for holder morals outside the Weyr."

Benoroghe nodded slowly. "I do understand the need, L'ret, even though I find it uncomfortable. I suppose 'holder morals', as you call them, could cause considerable emotional confusion within a Weyr. Thank you for the explanation."

"I wish the weyrlings were so grateful for my lecturing tendencies."

Both men laughed as L'ret motioned Benoroghe to a set of small windows to one side of the office. Peering through, they could view the newest weyrlings in a class discussing dragon wing structure. A dragon healer stood at the large marking board, drawing lines as she talked about the growth of bones and muscles and connective tissues. The weyrlings were seated at the tables, but in groups, sometimes talking among themselves, with some copying the board drawing onto paper.

Benoroghe couldn't help but notice his bronze rider son sitting among a group of younger weyrlings. And he couldn't help but wonder if they, too, were of high ranking parentage.

"You'll notice the various groups in the room? Normally, those groups are separated by ranks previously held by each weyrling, or by how long each weyrling has actually been in the Weyr. Some are weyrbred and some came to us a month or more before the hatching, as you know."

"As did my son."

"Exactly. Your son, though, unlike most ranking youngsters who come to us, was instrumental in breaking up those rank-based groups. He, of his own accord mind you, convinced most of the long timers that it would be in all their best interests to help any newcomers. He also managed to convince most of the ranking that previous rank held no meaning here, except for an increased obligation to assist others."

L'ret watched with some amusement and considerable understanding as his new friend puffed up with pride.

"He would have been an excellent Lord Holder." If only he had considered going to Southern Continent with some of his cousins, thought Benoroghe.

"He will be an excellent leader, Ben, no matter where he finds himself."

Benoroghe watched the class – especially his son's patient, attentive collaboration with the youngsters – for several more minutes before frowning and turning to L'ret. "You didn't bring me here just to inflate my ego, did you, L'ret?"

L'ret nearly howled. "No, I did not, Ben, but it was certainly a joy to watch. And I know for a fact, I've been caught doing the same from time to time."

Both men laughed at the joys and the problems associated with fatherhood. As they discussed each of their children, Benoroghe soon found, to his surprise, that he was no longer bothered by the fact that each of L'ret's several children had different mothers. He actually admired the man for keeping in touch with not only his children, but their mothers as well. A discussion of the reasons for fostering weyrbred children at such young ages increased Benoroghe's respect for the careful thoughtfulness behind seemingly unconventional Weyr methods.

Discussions of their families finished, L'ret began showing Benoroghe around the weyrling end of Benden Weyr. He started with the storage facilities, glossed over the locked cold storage room, and then took him outside. They observed different groups of weyrlings, some butchering beasts for the dragonets, some working the firestone pile, some bathing or oiling dragons, the newest class standing around a blue dragon as he spread and lifted and tilted his wings, and of course some marching. As they walked and talked, other weyrlings reported in after performing various conveyance or message delivery services, or from visiting other parts of Pern, or from working in various locations through the Weyr. The traffic on this end of the Weyr was surprisingly heavy, but always well ordered, though not at all the way a Hold's traffic might be ordered.

Benoroghe was amazed by the organized chaos, and wondered out loud how it was all tracked, and how everyone knew what to do and where to be. This led to a return to the barracks. On the wall next to the corridor leading to the classrooms, storage rooms, and office, was a large marking board. Each class was listed on the left side of the board and divided into six to ten groups depending on the size of the class, explained L'ret. Columns were painted all across the board, one for each hour of the day. A large windup clock was centered on the wall above the board. To one side hung a clip-board with pages similarly marked for future days and another with special projects and blank lines for volunteers to write their names.

The top row on the board was marked 2552-2. Every space to the right was filled, sometimes with multiple lines of tiny writing. These weyrlings even stood night watch duty on the fire heights. The next row, 2552-3/4, had nearly twice the number of groups. There spaces were not quite as full as class 2552-2, but they did also stand some watch duties. Classes 2553-1 and 2553-2 seemed to do far less than the others, but on closer inspection, Benoroghe noticed that they did far more classroom work, and had far more 'dragon needs' time allotted.

"I thought weyrling classes lasted almost two Turns," mused Benoroghe.

"It does, sometimes a bit longer," said L'ret. "Three more classes are already in the Weyrling Wing. They're getting more experience flying in Threadfall, mostly with the Queen's Wing and sometimes on lower levels with the other wings. As they prove themselves, they're moved into the regular fighting wings, hopefully at Wingleaders' requests.

"I see." Benoroghe shook his head in amazement as he indicated the board. "This is amazing! With this, and your knowledge of who is in each group, you would know where each weyrling should be at any time of the day."

L'ret grinned with noticeable pride laced with humility. "It's a system passed down from the first Weyrs. Each weyrlingmaster or weyrleader makes slight changes of course, but in general, it hasn't changed in over twenty five hundred Turns."

"Does Benden Weyr have Records that far back?"

"We do, though some have suffered the ravages of time. But I've reviewed some of the earliest Weyrlingmaster's Records, and even had the opportunity to have Aivas enhance their readability."

"And what was your innovation to this remarkable system?"

L'ret shrugged. "With the availability of paper, I'm able to not only plan out days in advance, but share those plans with others. It's much easier than scraping hides when there's a change of plans."

The two men discussed Benoroghe's scheduling techniques as they walked back out into the bowl. The newest weyrlings were marching in lines until their dragons woke. They also discussed each man's reservations about using 'terminals' in their respective positions. What it boiled down to, they agreed amicably, was that neither was too anxious to learn what would surely, in their opinions, be extremely complicated new skills.

As they drew nearer the marching weyrlings, L'ret pulled his tiny notepad from his pocket.

"What's that?" asked Benoroghe.

L'ret was surprised that Fort Hold's Steward had not seen this handy little innovation of the Print Hall. "It's a notepad." He handed it to Benoroghe, who started flipping through the lined pages. "It comes in real handy when I'm observing the weyrlings; don't have to rely so much on my . . . overworked memory." As Benoroghe continued flipping through the pages – not reading, but definitely noting how much could fit on each page – L'ret revealed his source. "Wingleader T'men was an apprentice Harper before impressing, and still has quite a few friends in that Craft. He brought me several of these after one of his trips to Landing's Print Hall."

Benoroghe stopped flipping at a page with a crude drawing of a dragon near a lake. The nearly vertical lines on either side appeared to be the walls of the crater, but the lines from above were confusing. "What's this?" Benoroghe caught himself as he handed the pad back to the weyrlingmaster. "Oh, my apologies, L'ret. I do hope that's not proprietary information."

L'ret laughed as he glanced at the page. "Not at all, but this would be best seen. It's almost time for another demonstration of this most unusual event. But for now, let's test the new weyrlings." When Benoroghe's anticipatory grin almost matched L'ret's, the weyrlingmaster raised an arm and waved when he had the attention of his assistants. He then flipped his pad to the next clean page and prepared to take notes on the results of this little test.

Two lines of weyrlings were being marched in intersecting lines; one line was led by bronze weyrling B'roghe and the other by bronze weyrling B'rand. After the wave, both lines were turned toward the far wall. L'ret and Benoroghe both chuckled as the assistants met between the lines and engaged in a rather loud and animated conversation.

As the lines drew closer to the wall, several weyrlings could be seen turning to find their leaders. A few even called out to them, with no response. B'roghe's line continued at normal speed. B'rand's line slowed and began bunching up which caused quite a bit of confusion. B'roghe, turning his head to see his group's leader thoroughly engaged in conversation, took the initiative to shout his line to a halt just a pace before reaching the wall. Weyrlings in his line held their places, but did start talking quietly to each other. B'rand's line, however, continued to bunch up and wound up a confused mass of chattering.

L'ret put two fingers in his mouth and blew a piercing whistle. Everyone turned toward the weyrlingmaster and his guest. The assistants then turned back to their lines, then to each other, and comically flapped their arms at each other before returning to their charges.

Benoroghe couldn't hold back his laughter, but tried . . . unsuccessfully.

L'ret glared at the man, but his eyes twinkled. "Learn anything, Ben?"

"Oh, my, yes! Who were the youngsters who tried to get the leaders' attention?"

L'ret grinned. "I heard Mara, D'mart, E'rol, and Cally. The assistants probably recognized the rest."

"Who's that little girl in back?"

"That's Cally. Cutest little weyrling I've ever had the pleasure to work with." A rather shocked look prompted more. "She's only eleven, and still very much a little girl. Reminds me of my little Litera."

"Eleven?" Now Benoroghe was truly shocked. After their earlier discussion, he was beginning to wonder if Weyr morals weren't a bit degenerate after all.

"Mmm. She was in the kitchen at the Ista Hatching. Like Mara, she wasn't even a candidate. She'll require special handling for a few Turns when her green rises."

"Special handling?" Now Benoroghe was becoming quickly disgusted.

"Oh, really, Ben! We do _not_ allow children to be abused, with or without a dragon. She will be sequestered, probably with a group of older women who can explain things to her and help her through anything she feels, without any sort of violation."

"Ahh." Benoroghe began to relax. "I should have known, L'ret, that after all these Turns, the Weyr would know how to handle such situations."

"Indeed, we do, Ben. No youngster is forced into such things until they are emotionally prepared. Did you know that some aren't ready even at sixteen Turns?"

"Girls?"

"Quite a few boys! They've been taught that the very act is evil, and they shouldn't even think of such things until after they're married!"

"That's a bit excessive!"

"I'm glad we agree on that!"

They talked about the Istan Hatching and the weyrlings who were transferred to Benden Weyr as they watched the marching lines reform after some discussion with the leaders. They continued talking, even as L'ret made a few notes in his little notepad, as weyrlings began dropping out to tend to their waking dragons. They walked closer to the lake when Dandreth woke; L'ret felt Benoroghe might like to watch his son. L'ret began grinning for no apparent reason when the Istan dragons began waking.

They talked about what each of the weyrlings was doing and why as L'ret waited impatiently for Klamath to be bathed, and walked closer to the Istan weyrlings' cluster of buckets.

Benoroghe tried very hard to not blush when the boys in the lake began removing their tunics; the sun beat mercilessly into the bowl, and the heat did intensify when the light bounced off the crater walls. He had to laugh, though, when the girls claimed 'unfair'; it brought back memories of family outings when he was young. He was truly shocked when one of the boys shouted that there was no reason the girls couldn't also remove their tunics. As one of the girls – was that young Cally? – began to take the dare, L'ret intervened, for which Benoroghe was truly grateful.

"We have a guest!" bellowed the weyrlingmaster. Before he could take a breath, three more dragons glided into the lake, riders astride. L'ret rolled his eyes as the brown and blue riders slid off their dragons in nothing more than a clout, and the woman rider dove from the back of her green wearing one of those skimpy little things so popular down at Landing and Monaco Bay.

Benoroghe's eyes popped at the sight of the green rider and he had to force himself to turn to L'ret. He laughed at the weyrlingmaster's embarrassment, and at his own. "I am supposed to learn about Weyr attitudes, but . . ." When L'ret hung his shaking head, Benoroghe laughed harder. "You know? My daughters actually wanted to buy some of those . . . swimming outfits, they called them."

"Is Northern Pern ready for that?"

"I don't know about the rest of Northern Pern, but Fort Hold most definitely is not!"

They both laughed again when L'ret admitted to having one of those outfits hidden in his weyr. His oldest daughter had purchased it when his back was turned during their last trip to Landing, and was extremely upset that he would not let her take it to Benden Hold where she currently lived with her mother. Lord Holder Toronas was more open-minded than Lord Holder Raid had been, but L'ret wasn't too sure he was quite that open-minded yet.

As they talked and watched the weyrlings, Benoroghe found himself looking back and forth between his son and his beautiful bronze and the Istan dragons who seemed to have L'ret's full attention. As the Istan dragons were oiled, Benoroghe finally witnessed what L'ret had drawn in his little notepad.

Fort Hold's Steward had to repeatedly close his mouth as he looked closer at Klamath. Finally, he could withhold comment no longer. "He looks bronze!" That woman brown rider's unashamed and knowing grin only served to confuse the Steward even more. He turned to L'ret, who also grinned like very young man. "Is he?"

"Oh, no," said L'ret. "He's a brown. We've even asked the other dragons. Even Ramoth says he's brown . . . most of the time."


	21. A Day for Family Visits

Angsty scenes cause me very literal headaches sometimes. Do any other authors have that problem?

Oh, yeah – still not mine. Fardles!

* * *

L'ret and Benoroghe continued watching the weyrlings as they and their young dragons were divided into several smaller groups, each led by a weyrlingmaster's assistant with extra help from seasoned rider volunteers.

Benoroghe had trouble reconciling what he had seen with what little he knew about dragons, and repeatedly asked more questions about Klamath, the brown – most of the time – dragon. While the sight of thirty-two little dragons spreading their wings might have fascinated or at the very least entertained most non-weyrbred people, Benoroghe noticed, but seemed rather obsessed by Klamath's changing hide color.

To ease the Steward's mind and hopefully move past what was intended to be a rather humorous event, L'ret finally declared that Klamath was most definitely a brown dragon, and that oiling only gave the illusion that he could change colors. He did not mention Lessa's sighting of bronze coloration in the newly hatched little brown four days earlier inside Ista's relatively dark living cavern. No need to overstretch this man's mind; he had come so far in just a few candle-marks.

Once again concerned only with the ramifications of a woman _brown_ rider – rather than a woman _bronze_ rider – Benoroghe began smiling as he realized what was happening before his very eyes. Thirty-two pairs of little dragon wings created an awesome color display in the sunny bowl of Benden Weyr. Greens, blues, browns, bronzes, and golds, in all shades from light to dark sat back on their haunches and raised their delicate wings as high as they could manage. Riders stood in front of their little ones, ready to provide support in the event of balance problems.

Benoroghe didn't know, of course, that each weyrling had been instructed in just how to provide any needed support – at the body, not the wings. More seasoned riders observed closely to make certain the dragonets did not overextend themselves. Dragon healers and the weyrleaders made their way through the groups, inspecting, measuring, gently probing, and very gently stretching little wings on occasion.

After a few minutes of wings held high, all dragonets were allowed to furl their wings, ordered to place all four feet on the ground and asked to raise their wings again. This display wasn't quite as impressive to the uninitiated, but still quite interesting. Benoroghe, standing alone while L'ret tended to this very important assessment of draconic development, noticed how much higher the seven-day old dragonets could raise their wings than the four-day old dragonets. One little blue among the Istan group seemed even further behind than the others, but the brown in that group raised his wings almost as high as his elders. The little blue was first to drop his wings back to his sides and seemed to droop – did dragons feel shame, wondered Benoroghe? There was L'ret, though, consoling the blue and his young rider, with considerable good effect; the boy was now smiling and the dragon standing a bit taller.

As the healers finished their inspections, dragonets and their riders made their way to the weyrling barracks, and soon returned to the lake with buckets of meat. Benoroghe held his place despite the urge to join his son as he returned with Dandreth, until one of the assistants informed him it would be acceptable to do so. The Steward was mildly surprised when B'roghe and Dandreth joined the Istans, but began to understand when his son struck up a conversation with the young blue rider. This must be the weyrling L'ret said B'roghe was helping.

Benoroghe was welcomed into the group of weyrlings and was introduced to each of them and their dragons. Young D'don acted as if they had met before, and indeed, after a few questions, Benoroghe remembered meeting the boy several Turns earlier when his father had visited Fort Hold in his capacity of Steward of a much smaller hold. Benoroghe was thrilled to hear that D'don's family was overcoming the problems associated with the Southern Continent and building a prosperous and potentially profitable new hold despite Toric's greed.

B'roghe's father then questioned each of the other Istan weyrlings. He knew he had met, or at least seen Brendeen before this day, and was quite shocked when he realized this was the spoiled little brat who had disrupted an important meeting between Lords Holder Groghe and Kashman just a few months ago. The timing had been impeccable – the meeting had been going quite sour – but for Lord Kashman to allow one of his children to be so disrespectful was simply unforgivable under any circumstance. And now she was a gold rider? Benoroghe sincerely hoped that little Saraneth hadn't made a big mistake.

Angalyn wasn't too willing to discuss her past, simply stating what he already knew, and unwilling to reveal any more of her history. Cally, though, was a joy to listen to. She did reveal solemnly that her parents had died just two and half sevendays earlier, but quickly launched into an excited full description of the small hold they had all shared, complete with descriptions of all the berry bushes and plants, and the fishing streams and ponds and the little river the hold was named for, and all the animals they raised. She could have talked all day, thought Benoroghe with appreciative glee, if Weyrlingmaster L'ret hadn't interrupted by calling D'don away.

Mara was more willing to discuss her history than Angalyn, but required considerably more prompting than Cally. Benoroghe was quite surprised yet again, to learn that she had been a dock worker for over fifteen Turns, and had dressed as a man. She wasn't very forthcoming with information about her family though, except to say that one of her brothers worked in some sort of clerical position at Keroon Hold, and the other didn't live in Keroon anymore. Any questions about her father seemed to cause a flash of anger in her expressive eyes, so Benoroghe did not press beyond the first couple of questions on that subject.

Gredarth, though he had been very close to sleep, rose to his feet to greet D'don as he returned with three more people. The blue weyrling appeared ready to bounce nearly as much as young Cally, but obviously fought the impulse in the presence of his parents and oldest sister.

Dorravan and Aryanna were quite pleased to meet Benoroghe again, and seemed just as pleased to meet the other weyrlings and their little dragons, though most of the dragonets were too tired to greet them with more than a nod or a blink of heavy eyelids. Man and wife seemed exact opposites; he being extremely formal with each of the weyrlings, and she hugging the two little girls and using both hands to shake with the brown and bronze weyrlings. Daryanna, though, seemed quite aloof, as if forced to make this journey. She curtsied appropriately to Fort's Steward, and even to his son, but merely raised her chin – as if to look down her nose – at the other weyrlings. Her disdain for the big brown rider earned her a strong arm squeeze from her father and a very disapproving glare from her mother. Mara, however, seemed unfazed by the young woman's rudeness. Was she that simple, wondered Benoroghe or just that forgiving?

L'ret announced to all the weyrlings that midday meal would be ready in half a candle-mark, and allowed them all a bit of free time until then.

After Aryanna's third compliment on D'don's very handsome haircut, D'don began to grin with mischief. As if seeking reassurance, he turned to B'roghe – who was also grinning – and then suggested perhaps his father would like to meet the weyr barber, since he apparently hadn't found time to have his hair cut before coming to Benden Weyr. B'roghe made the same suggestion to his father, though with considerably more tact.

Both men declared almost in unison that it would surely be inappropriate to take up Weyr personnel's valuable time. Mekelroy joined the group at just that time, and declared with equal zeal that the Weyr barber was seldom busy just before a meal, and that the kitcheners would most likely appreciate his being distracted with employment he was actually suited for. When each of the other weyrlings informed the now suspicious men that the barber did wonderful work on both men and women, Aryanna added her encouragement; she would love to have such an obvious professional work on her hair again.

Neither of the highly proper men was able to resist the lovely Lady Holder's wistful longing, and soon two weyrlings were escorting their families to the Living Cavern.

Cally's increasing giggling prompted Mekelroy to turn a stern, but comical, silencing glare at her.

Cally had been so intent on watching the reactions of the visitors, she had barely registered Mekelroy's return. "Where were you, Mack? We missed you."

"Harper business. But I'm back now. What are we supposed to be doing?" Mekelroy looked to Angalyn for an answer. As he did so, Bista stretched her neck out to peer at the girl, tilting her head from side to side to get the best view.

Giggling at the little gold's antics, Angalyn answered rather shyly. "We're on free time until the meal is ready."

Mara voiced a wishful suggestion. "Is there anything we could do in the Living Cavern?"

The girls laughed, but with hope brightening their eyes. Mekelroy pretended to scold. "This is D'don's little joke. Let's let him enjoy it without a large audience."

"_Little_ joke?" asked Mara with a smile.

"Won't those important men get mad?" asked Angalyn.

Now Mekelroy grinned mischievously. "We'll find out soon enough, won't we?"

They all sat near the sleeping dragonets as Mekelroy discussed his recent 'Harper business'. He managed to keep Cally and Angalyn entertained with inconsequential details of his trip – the colors and sizes and personalities of each of the dragons he had flown, and their riders – without ever mentioning where he had actually gone or what his business had been.

When the meal was ready, the weyrlings were formed into their marching formations, while Mekelroy stayed with the Istan dragons. As they marched in class order to the Dining Cavern, Mekelroy spoke telepathically to Mara, declaring what a wonderful little tool telepathy could be for any Harper. He filled her in on his trip this day to Southern Hold and Little River Hold.

In Southern Hold, Masterharper Mekelroy had located the canines Cally had seen, and their handler who ordered them to kill her parents. The beasts had been delivered to Toric by none other than Mekelroy just over three months earlier. The handler was in the custody of Lord Lytol's committee and being questioned thoroughly to determine where his orders had come from – as if there was any question, added Mekelroy. Master Ballora was sending the canines' original trainer to Southern Hold to reassess and retrain them prior to reassignment to a more appropriate position, perhaps as guards at a remote prison hold.

The committee, with the help of Lytol's gentle suggestions, arranged for a young couple to manage Little River Hold in keeping for Cally, the rightful Holder, until such time as she could decide how to proceed with its handling. She would have the option of returning to her home 'After', or relinquishing Little River Hold to its new managers. And, being the rightful Holder, she would of course earn a share of any profits the Hold might realize.

_Will you be telling Cally about this, Master?_

_Shards, no! Not yet. Her immediate future is rather set; she doesn't need anything more to worry about right now. But there may come a time when she does need to know, Mara, and you seem to be closest to her right now. Don't hesitate to tell her any of this if she should ask or need to know._

_Understood, Master._

_Enjoy your meal, Mara._

As the weyrlings were called to a halt, Mara wondered at Mekelroy's last statement. It seemed unfinished, as if he decided at just the last moment to not mention something else. The feeling dissipated as she focused on keeping her place in the line of hungry weyrlings.

Once inside the Dining Cavern, the brown weyrling looked around the large room, hoping to see where D'don and B'roghe might be. She found them just entering from the Living Cavern. Their fathers both seemed overly determined to maintain proper decorum, their faces like stone carvings, yet, Benoroghe had a hand on B'roghe's shoulder and Dorravan had his arm across both of D'don's shoulders. The weyrlings were both grinning, D'don much wider than B'roghe, and Aryanna smiled beautifully with her slightly, but noticeably different styled head held quite high.

Mara grinned as a word from Aryanna caused both men to break out into laughter, slapping their sons' backs and each others'. A shove from behind turned her attention back to the line leading to the serving tables. A glare from the weyrlingmaster caused her to attempt suppression of her good humor, but she was only partially successful.

_What is so amusing, Weyrling?_

_D'don and B'roghe took their fathers to see Andre, sir._

L'ret's eyes shot wide open as he turned toward the Living Cavern. The corners of his mouth twitched as he caught sight of his weyrlings just leaving their families. He turned back to Mara and simply nodded. _Good for them._

The meal was quite enjoyable for the Istan weyrlings and all those who sat near them. D'don and B'roghe each did impressions of their fathers' reactions to Benden Weyr's favorite barber. Aryanna, it turned out, had been most accepting of Andre's unusual behavior and the first to allow him to work on her hair. B'roghe had been next, needing to prove to his father how harmless Andre was, despite his own reservations, which of course, only Mara picked up on. The two ranking holdbred visitors had actually argued briefly, though teasingly, about which of them would be next, with slightly older Benoroghe 'winning' at Dorravan's insistence. Only Daryanna refused Andre's expert ministrations, and D'don was thrilled to report Andre's rather insulting retort to her rude refusal.

Mara had the distinct impression that Andre had thoroughly enjoyed performing for such a high ranking audience.

As the weyrlings were being marched back to the barracks, Mara noticed a brown dragon with two passengers descending through the bowl to land at the north end. The dragons' minds – or at least their open thoughts – had gone quiet after the welcoming bugle. Deciding it wasn't her concern, Mara refocused on the task at hand, or foot, she corrected herself in good humor.

As they passed the Healers' Cavern, L'ret ordered Angalyn and Cally to go _between_ to visit the Healers. K'remin accompanied them.

A short way further, Mara was ordered _between_. As agreed to by Weyrlingmaster L'ret, Mara stepped sideways, bent her knees slightly and leaned forward – an older, injured weyrling's approximation of crouching. As the last of the green weyrlings passed by, she stood again and faced the weyrlingmaster.

"Council Chambers!" was L'ret's barked order before correcting some of the weyrlings on their filling in of the vacant position.

Mara turned back the way they had just come and began walking quickly. The passengers had already disappeared as the visiting brown dragon took to the air. Listening to the dragons was not revealing anything about this situation. When Weyrleader F'lar appeared at the top of the stairs to the weyrwoman's quarters, Mara began running.

_No need to hurry, Weyrling. We're waiting on others._

F'lar's mental voice seemed to convey both humor and irritation. Mara returned to walking, but at a faster than normal speed. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, so did Master Harper Mekelroy.

"Where's Bista?" asked Mara, trying to hide her growing concern.

"Running errands," quipped the harper. "Come along, little weyrling; time for more fun and games." With that, he trotted up the stairs ahead of Mara.

Mara knew better – finally – than to even try moving faster up that long stone stairway. She was slightly out of breath as she reached the top and bowed her head to Ramoth. "Good day, Ramoth."

_It will be, Mara._

Mara's smile faded quickly; what did she mean by that? She turned toward the Chamber to find Lessa waiting for her. "What's happening, Weyrwoman Lessa?"

Lessa forced a smile. "It seems to be family visitation day at Benden Weyr." She held out her hand and when Mara took it, pulled her into the curtained hallway. "Don't worry, dear. We'll not let you leave Benden Weyr just yet."

As F'lar pulled back the curtain, Lessa released Mara's hand and walked ahead to her usual chair. Mara stood in stunned shock; at the far end of the room stood Lord Holder Kashman and her father, Marlan. She could almost believe this was not her father; he was so much thinner than just two sevendays earlier.

"Weyrling?" prompted F'lar.

Mara snapped her eyes to her weyrleader and tried to smile. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," she said as she passed the curtain. She took a few steps into the room and stopped.

Marlan walked awkwardly toward Mara. "Mara! My darling daughter! Oh, you've lost weight!" He raised his arms as if inviting her into a hug.

F'lar stepped in front of Mara and, with his back to the visitors, made quite a show of pulling out a chair near the middle of the long table, on the near side of the chair Master Mekelroy seemed to have claimed.

As Marlan was about to pass the harper, Mekelroy grabbed his right hand and stopped his progress with a firm, controlling handshake. "I don't believe we've been introduced, sir." When the much taller and thinner man nearly snarled, Mekelroy pretended to not notice. "I am Master Harper Mekelroy, on temporary assignment here at Benden Weyr."

Marlan, unpracticed in proper manners, made a poor attempt. "It's a pleasure, Harper." He then tried to get past to reach his daughter.

Mekelroy, the true Master that he was, successfully redirected the man back to the other end of the room using their joined hands as the pivot point. "And your name, sir? And Mara is your daughter? Unbelievable! Do tell me what she was like as a child."

After thanking F'lar for his invaluable assistance sitting in his chosen chair, Mara's visual focus relaxed. As she noticed again the other man now seated in F'lar's chair, she nodded. "Lord Holder Kashman." The man didn't even nod; he raised his chin and then averted his eyes. Mara followed his gaze and found her fellow weyrlings' families sitting on the other side of the table. "Lord Holder Dorravan. Lady Aryanna. Steward Benoroghe." They, at least – even though they appeared just as speechless as Mara felt – each nodded and returned her name. Lady Aryanna even smiled with much appreciated encouragement. Daryanna was not in the room.

Kashman, growing impatient as the harper and F'lar took their time seating themselves, asked belligerently, "And where are those bronze riders who abducted one of my people?"

Lessa smiled almost kindly at the man. "They're on their way, Lord Kashman. They were all engaged in other duties when you arrived so unexpectedly."

"We don't need them just yet." Kashman turned to his fellow holders, hoping for support. "You all know why we are here. We came to demand the return of this woman to her home."

"This is my home," squeaked Mara, much to her embarrassment.

Lessa ignored the weyrling and with frightening casualness responded to the Lord Holder. "I'm afraid that is simply not possible, Lord Kashman. She impressed a dragon four days ago."

Marlan nearly spat his disgust. "A _brown_ dragon, I hear tell!"

Kashman raised his hand to silence the man, and smiled with condescension at Lessa. "Surely you'll not allow such a travesty to continue, Weyrwoman Lessa."

Lessa caught F'lar's hand as he raised it prior to speaking. She squeezed and continued smiling as she spoke far too sweetly. "We see no travesty, Lord Kashman. Our dragons choose and we accept their choices, even when we don't completely understand."

Kashman blustered at such calm acceptance. "But, this dragon is obviously defective in some way!"

"We've learned from early Weyr Records – thanks to Aivas' help – that some of the blue dragons chose women in the earliest Turns to the benefit of their Weyrs. Why not a brown, or a bronze for that matter?"

Benoroghe tried to cough up whatever just tried to choke him.

Kashman continued his attempt at concealed insult as Lessa continued responding with no apparent negative feelings.

Mara listened in disbelief as they seemed to banter back and forth, Kashman getting more angry by the moment, and Lessa and the others becoming more amused. Only Marlan seemed oblivious to the discussion. When Mara _listened_ in to his thoughts, her nose twitched in disgust. The man was wondering where the complimentary snacks were. And far more importantly, where was the wine usually served at the almighty Holders' and Weyrleaders' meetings? If he could just get the pack-beast back into his cot, he would never go hungry or thirsty again. And now that he knew of other ways she could bring in money . . .

Mara stopped listening. She fought to maintain calm as anger consumed her to the core. 'My darling daughter' was now nothing more than 'the pack-beast'. Is that all she had ever been to this man who sired her? Hadn't there once been more to their family than that? Lord Kashman's raised voice drew her attention back to the discussion.

"She belongs in Keroon!"

Now Mara found her voice. "This is my home, Lord Holder Kashman."

Kashman appeared shocked. He glared before blustering, "Silence, woman!" He turned toward his fellow Holders and was about to speak again, but was unable to even begin.

"Lord Holder Kashman!" When she had his full, but disapproving attention, Mara continued. "You are arguing about _my_ future, Lord Kashman! Do either of you even care what I want?"

"What you want is not the issue! We are arguing about what is best for you."

"According to the Charter of Pern, Lord Holder Kashman, it is an issue." Mara forged on as he took a breath to stop her. "The Charter says that every person of majority age shall have the right of self determination. Every _person_, Lord Holder Kashman, man or woman, who is old enough to choose, has the right to choose their own future."

Clapping could be heard from beyond the curtain, but was quickly shushed by a familiar voice. All turned to see Masterharper Sebell as he ducked through the curtain with a smile adorning his already handsome face.

"Your reading has improved considerably, Brown Rider Mara." Sebell nodded at the flustered weyrling as he moved around the table to sit near the weyrleaders. "And you're reading the Charter of Pern already?"

"Thank you, Masterharper Sebell. Yes, I find the Charter to be very . . . interesting."

"Enlightening, I should imagine!" When the weyrling seemed confused, he played their old game. "Like opening the shutters in a very dark cot?"

Mara smiled with true glee. "Yes, Masterharper! The Charter of Pern is extremely enlightening."

Marlan chose that moment to question his Lord Holder. "Does the Charter really say that?"

"How would I know," fumed Kashman. "I don't have time to read all that old historical dung." Gasps from Benden's visitors prompted him to lessen the impact of his impulsive words. "I have a large Hold to manage, after all."

Sebell quickly distracted everyone from Kashman's error in judgment. "Healer Hall sends its apologies. Masterhealer Oldive will not be able to attend. He is currently in the middle of a particularly difficult surgery."

"Surgery?" gasped Kashman in shock.

"Yes," Sebell was unfazed. "He and a team of journeyman specialists are attempting to reattach the leg of a young Holder who was injured in a forestry accident. If they are successful, this young man will still be able to support his family, his Craft, and his Hold. The injured man felt the attempt well worth the risk of possible failure with the hope the Healers would learn enough about such injuries to help others in the future. Master Oldive did send a message out of the surgery though, suggesting that Master Healer Tarminas is also fully aware of all the pertinent facts."

"I'll send for him," said Lessa.

Kashman was becoming outraged. "Where are those bronze riders? I haven't had the chance to question them, yet."

F'lar raised his voice slightly in the direction of the dropped curtain. "Riders?"

Bronze riders B'nor, G'regg and G'raden filed in and each addressed their weyrleaders.

Mara tried to not look at G'raden, worried about any feelings that might resurface.

Lessa noticed the weyrling's discomfort. _Stay angry, Mara. It will help overshadow any inappropriate feelings._

_Anger's not a good thing, Lessa._

_Anger is a tool, Mara. Used appropriately, it can be a very effective management device._

_Understood. Thank you, Lessa._

As Kashman tried to intimidate the errant bronze riders with questions of their sobriety and their intentions on Keroon's recent Gather Day, he became increasingly infuriated at their apparent lack of concern for the severity of the crime they were accused of committing.

Lady Aryanna voiced the question the men at her sides were discussing. "How, bronze riders, did you learn that Mara needed your help?"

"Our dragons told us," answered G'raden simply.

"And how did they know she needed help?" asked Dorravan.

All three bronze riders looked at Lessa for permission to discuss what might be considered a Weyr secret. When she nodded, G'raden answered with perfectly clear speech. "Mara has the ability to hear and speak to all dragons. That day, Lord Holder Dorravan, in her distress, she managed, unintentionally, to call to _all_ the dragons on Pern for help. As we were already in Keroon Hold, we saw it as our duty to answer her call and indeed, the plea of our dragons to help such an important future asset to all of Pern."

Mara could feel all the blood drain from her face as everyone in the room stared at her, some in appreciation and some in disbelief. She held her head high, though, as Lessa herself had already made it clear that she had done nothing wrong that day. G'raden's final words though – "important future asset to all of Pern"? – gave new gravity to her abilities.

Kashman, after several heartbeats, nearly exploded. "I don't believe this! No one can call all the dragons of Pern!"

Lessa stood up and glared at the man. "I have the ability to call all the dragons of Benden Weyr, or all the Queen dragons of Pern. I've never had the need to call all the dragons of Pern, but have no doubt that I could." When Kashman shook his head in disbelief, Lessa demonstrated on a very small scale; all the dragons of Benden Weyr, including Ramoth at the end of the hallway, let out a roar of anger.

Several snickers were heard throughout the chamber as both Kashman and Marlan climbed back into their chairs.

Marlan looked with frightened respect at his daughter. "Mara can't do that."

"Mara?" With that one word, Lessa gave the weyrling permission to speak to the dragons of Benden Weyr as she resumed her seat.

Tarminas entered the Chamber while everyone watched the big woman's eyes lose focus. Marlan began snickering, obviously unconvinced, but stopped as a mass of huffing in different tones infiltrated the Council Chambers. The dragonriders and harpers in the room all either smiled or snickered.

"What is that?" demanded Kashman. He held his hands to his ears as the very walls seemed to reverberate with all the noise.

Sebell answered. "That, Lord Holder Kashman, is draconic laughter."

"It took her longer than the weyrwoman," snapped back Marlan.

Kashman pointed at Lessa. "You did that when she couldn't!"

Lessa, smiling, but with fury evident to anyone knowing her, answered calmly. "No, I did not. Mara, why did it take you longer to get a reaction?"

Mara shrugged, but smiled self consciously. "They're all pretty angry that the Lord Holder wants to take me away, so I had to tell them a funny story to get them to laugh."

Now, the visiting families joined the laughter.

Mekelroy couldn't resist asking, "What story did you tell them?"

Mara blushed and rolled her eyes. "I don't think it would translate very well into human speech, Master Mekelroy."

"So, she can speak to dragons." Kashman stood to emphasize his not-yet-understood point. "That does not change the fact that she was abducted from my Hold."

Mara stood as well, determined to stop this before it caused the dragons any more distress. "I was not abducted, Lord Kashman. I was rescued! And I would not have needed rescuing if my . . . father . . . hadn't sold me to the highest bidder in an ale hold!"

"You sold your daughter?" asked Benoroghe with open disgust as Dorravan tried to calm his highly agitated wife.

As Marlan sputtered, Lessa reminded him of a common and very useful myth. "You are aware that dragons are able to detect falsehoods."

Marlan's eyes darted around the room in fear. He finally addressed Mara with a pitiful plea. "It was just a joke."

Benoroghe and Dorravan blurted in unison, "A joke?"

"A joke," said Tarminas loud enough to be heard by all as he too stood, "that very nearly cost your daughter her very life. If she had not called for help from the dragons of Pern when she did, sir, she would most likely have died from her injuries within minutes afterwards. These bronze riders brought her to Benden Weyr with barely enough time to spare to stop massive internal bleeding caused by the results of your joke!" Tarminas had worked himself into impressive fury, but stopped before detailing the long list of Mara's injuries.

"She doesn't look injured to me!" declared Kashman.

"Oh, she has made a remarkable recovery." Tarminas partially smiled at what he had witnessed. "But, have no doubt, Lord Holder, this woman will bear the scars of her father's betrayal for all the days of her life."

"How so?" asked Kashman. He only now began to eye Marlan with some measure of suspicion.

Tarminas addressed the weyrling. "May I tell them, Lady Mara?"

Shocked at the use of the undeserved title almost as much as by this unbelievable meeting, Mara simply nodded.

"She has suffered irreparable damage to at least two major joints which is likely to cause severe joint ail as she ages. The damage to her ribs will likely cause considerable discomfort eventually. The damage to her skull may well have caused damage we can only imagine, and worst of all . . ." The healer took a deep breath before continuing with deep heartfelt regret. "This lovely, sweet, kind woman will never have the opportunity to mother a child of her own making."

The holders all gasped at the last revelation. Kashman now believed the woman in question to be totally worthless to his Hold. Benoroghe, Dorravan, and Aryanna however, considered such a loss to be the utmost violation of any individual's right to a happy future, raising children. Marlan merely mimicked the others, trying to fit in.

"You lied to me," said Kashman finally to Marlan. To the weyrleaders, he said, "If this woman is happy here, and if you really want her, I think it would be in her best interest to stay at Benden Weyr." And with that, he started to leave, his dignity – at least in his mind – still intact.

Marlan followed his Lord Holder while everyone else in the room stood – hinting at respect for the departing Lord Holder – but stopped near Mara and tried one last act of desperation. "Mara, sweetums, please come home with me. I need you, you know."

Mara avoided his attempted reach for her hands by backing up. "Benden Weyr is my home now, Da." As he stared with a mixture of anger and regret, she began to wonder. "What was the winning bid, Da? The last I heard was three marks." When he merely sputtered, she pressed further. "I'd just like to know what I was worth to you Da. Ten marks? Twenty? More?"

Marlan nearly choked with laughter. "You haughty beast! I only got four marks for your ugly hide! Not even worth the bother!"

Mekelroy slammed into the garishly laughing man, managing to ram a fist into his side which pushed him away from Mara and toward the exit. "Oh, my apologies, Holder Marlan. I tripped over my own feet. Imagine that!" He continued pushing the man all the way out of the Council Chamber as he profusely apologized and made comical excuses for his 'clumsiness'.

Mara remained standing, facing the interior of the room as Lessa and F'lar escorted everyone else out of the Chamber. When it was quiet, Mara took a deep breath. She had work to do, and it wouldn't get done standing here. She turned slowly by sheer force of will, and found G'raden standing a step away. Her fragile composure shattered immediately. Her next breath was a heart wrenching sob as she stepped into G'raden's tender embrace. She cried almost silently into his big strong shoulder for quite some time while he soothed her with loving and comforting words of reassurance promising that everything would be just fine.


	22. Family Visits continued

Still not mine!

* * *

As Mara slowly came to terms with her father's hurtful remarks and attitude and her tears began to subside, she melted further into the safety and comfort of G'raden's embrace. No man had ever made her feel so secure, or had he? The scented sand G'raden had used – although a bit too heavily – had brought back memories of this level of security, and love. Was it her father who had worn that scent? She remembered her mother making it, and then being wrapped in strong arms smelling of it, but she didn't remember the face. Who else could it have been? But how had her father come to despise her so? What had she done?

Deciding that she may never know the answers to those questions, she declared it all now a part of her history – done and over, but still a part of her. Taking a deep breath of the present, she smiled at the scent of wherhide with strong undertones of dragon hide and dragon oil, and lesser hints of raw herd-beast and wherry.

When G'raden's chest vibrated with silent laughter, Mara pushed away with hands on his wide belt. She couldn't look at his face; she had to be careful, for Klamath's sake.

"Thank you, G'raden," she said to the arm that moved to hold her shoulder. She felt him smile – how did he do that? How did his smile warm her heart so?

"Is Klamath still sleeping?"

His deep bass voice sent shivers up her spine. "Yes," she answered. Why did he find that so funny?

"Then he won't notice a _mild_ belly ache." G'raden moved his hand to her face, wanting to see in her eyes that she would be all right.

"Let's not test that theory, riders."

Both riders stepped away from each other and turned to see Lessa smirking up at them. She held out a damp cloth to the tall brown weyrling. "You'd best clean your face, dear. Our visitors are anxious to speak with you, and you still have training to attend to."

Mara rolled her eyes as she took the cloth. "Yes, ma'am." As she scrubbed at her tear-stained face, Lessa turned her attention to G'raden.

"And you, Bronze Rider, had best return to your duties. Thank you for your assistance in this matter."

"I'm always at your service, Weyrwoman."

Still scrubbing her face, Mara heard a smack of skin against cloth covered skin followed by a deep chuckle. When she uncovered her eyes, G'raden was just passing through the dividing curtain while Lessa shook her head at him.

Lessa turned back to the big woman and smiled gently. "You look better. Are you all right, dear?"

Mara shrugged and tried to smile. "I will be. Thank you." She held up the cloth. When Lessa ran slender fingers down her delicate neck, Mara imitated the maneuver with the damp cloth, cleaning her own neck. Smiling was now much easier.

"Have a seat, dear." Lessa pointed to a chair and pulled out another for herself. When both were seated, she studied Mara for just a moment. "What's this about belly aches?"

Rolling her eyes again, Mara chuckled. "That's what Klamath called it. It's the fluttery feeling I get whenever I see G'raden."

Lessa smiled knowingly and nodded her head with great exaggeration. "Ahhh. And how did you explain that to Klamath?"

"I told him it wasn't an ache; it was excitement."

"And he understood that?"

"He trusted me enough to not bite G'raden."

Lessa let out a breathy laugh. "And you've been avoiding even looking at G'raden?"

Mara shrugged again, and frowned. "Until Klamath understands."

"That's very wise, Mara. But it's not easy, is it?"

Mara shook her head slowly, grimacing. "But, it's only for nine or ten months, right?"

"It could be a full Turn." When Mara groaned, Lessa laughed. "It depends on the dragon and his or her rider. I would wager you won't have to wait a full Turn."

F'lar spoke from behind the curtain. "Ladies?"

"A moment, dear," answered Lessa. "We're almost ready."

"No hurry, My Lady. Merely concerned for your welfare."

Lessa smiled sweetly. "We're fine, dear." She reached up and fingered combed a strand of Mara's hair that had been plastered to her forehead. "F'lar? Will you join us, please?"

Mara's wide eyed gasp caused Lessa to grin teasingly. "It's all Weyr business, Mara. Nothing to be embarrassed about."

Benden's weyrleader stepped back into the Council Chambers and sat where Lessa indicated, on her other side. He worried only slightly when he noticed the weyrling's slight blush.

Lessa turned in her chair to face her weyrmate. "Can you tell us, dear, when Mnementh first became interested in your mating activities?"

F'lar's surprise nearly snapped his neck as he sat back in the chair. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he squinted at both women watching him with apparent amusement. "Weyrlings are strongly discouraged from engaging in any mating or pre-mating activities until the weyrlingmaster declares it safe for their dragons."

Lessa turned to face him more squarely. "That much, we both know, dear. Now, will you kindly answer my question?"

F'lar's chin dropped a couple more times in failed attempts to speak. He and Lessa had come to an understanding – or so he had assumed – that any of his relationships prior to theirs was not open for discussion. And while she wasn't actually asking about relationships, mating activities was certainly close. Mara, he realized, was the cause of this questioning, so he directed the beginning of his answer to her. "I was quite young – barely of age to stand – and only beginning to notice the differences between boys and girls." He looked at Lessa briefly and continued, though somewhat hesitantly. "There was this kitchen drudge though, who apparently found me interesting and . . ."

"Who?" blurted Lessa, immediately regretting her impulsiveness. "It doesn't matter. Go on, dear."

F'lar now glared at his weyrmate, but with love overshadowing the anger he tried to effuse. "Perhaps you should distract our guests, my love. They were growing a bit impatient when you summoned me."

Lessa's face contorted with a mix of anger and frustration. She slapped her hands to her knees and stood. "Very well!" She let F'lar pull her close for a quick kiss and then stormed out of the Chambers.

F'lar slapped her backside as she passed, and chuckled at her return slap to his arm. He then took a deep breath and faced the weyrling, who seemed rather embarrassed and confused. "Why do women want to know about prior relationships?"

Mara's jaw bounced a few times as she thought about it. "Maybe to compare . . ?"

"No one compares to Lessa! Not in my mind!" F'lar's vehemence surprised himself as much as his audience. He took another breath. "Where was I?"

"A kitchen drudge found you interesting?"

F'lar closed his eyes and pursed his lips. "Mmm. Yes." He grinned as he looked at the big woman in front of him. She seemed so curious, but not in any way judgmental, and it might be interesting to test her discretion a bit further. "She teased me constantly after I impressed Mnementh. Constantly rubbing shoulders, or running her hands down my arms, back, or chest." He shook his head in memory, and actually blushed slightly. "All those new feelings."

"Did it scare Mnementh?"

"Oh, yes! He wanted to kill her for 'hurting' me!" Mara's knowing nod and big grin conveyed that she'd experienced the same already. Now, he fully understood why Lessa had asked this question. "But, he trusted me when I told him it didn't hurt, it just felt different. Eventually, _he_ realized what I was feeling was excitement, and anticipation." He grinned at Mara's blush. "And then _he_ started pushing _me_ to learn more."

"How old was he?"

F'lar laughed at Mara's poorly hidden excitement. "He was two months old when he pushed me to experiment a bit more. He was . . ." F'lar couldn't help teasing just a bit, so pretended fuzzy memory. ". . . four months when we first attempted actually mating."

"Attempted? Did it scare him again?"

F'lar sat up straight and raised his chin, but was unable to erase his grin. "I was barely of age."

"Oh!" Now Mara blushed uncontrollably. "Understood!" She recovered by getting angry at herself for forgetting that important detail. "But, _he_ pushed _you_ to keep trying?"

"Exactly! _He_ was ready," F'lar's head cocked involuntarily to one side. "Even if I wasn't just yet." He cleared his throat and swallowed, buying time as he watched hope spread across the weyrling's face. "The point is, Mara, Klamath will let you know when it's safe to resume your previous relationship. Don't push him! That could be very damaging to his psyche."

"Psyche?"

"His mind, his emotional stability."

"Ahh. Thank you Weyrleader."

F'lar nodded authoritatively and then lowered his chin threateningly. "This is _not_ to be discussed with _anyone_! Weyrlings are discouraged from engaging in any mating or pre-mating activities . . ."

"Until the weyrlingmaster declares it safe," finished Mara with a grin. "Understood, Weyrleader F'lar."

"Good!" F'lar slapped his knees and began to stand. "Are we ready to return to work?"

"Yes, sir!" Mara stood as well and followed her weyrleader through the curtain, down the hallway. Lessa stood at the far end.

_What did he say after I left?_ asked Lessa with uncharacteristic curiosity.

_He agreed with you, Lessa. He doesn't think I'll have to wait a full Turn._

_And the drudge?_

Mara shrugged. _You surely know her kind. Trying to improve her station using what skills she had?_

_Did she succeed?_

_I didn't ask!_ That wasn't a lie, reasoned Mara. F'lar had mentioned the attempt, but had not really said _who_ he had succeeded with, and she hadn't asked!

Lessa slapped the rock wall she stood against before stepping through the curtain F'lar held aside for her.

When F'lar questioned Mara with nothing more than a look, she simply shrugged.

As the group of dragonriders, holders and harpers descended the stairway, Mekelroy put his hand on Mara's shoulder. From a step behind – so their heads were level – he said quietly, but sternly, "You misquoted the Charter."

Mara was shocked. "I did? Did I at least get the meaning right?"

"You did." Mekelroy smiled his bright harper smile. "Look up that section this evening, and we'll talk about it later."

"My copy of the Charter is part of the sand at Ista Weyr."

"Is that what that scoundrel destroyed? I'll get you another copy."

"Annotated? With historical references?" Mara had only minor difficulty with the big words, having repeated them numerous times with G'raden when he gifted her with his copy.

"Of course! A Harper's favorite version." When she smiled a bit suspiciously, he winked and trotted around her and down the stairs to speak with Masterharper Sebell before he returned to Harper Hall.

The Holders questioned Mara quite extensively on her Turns in Keroon. F'lar and Lessa followed behind, listening to details they hadn't yet heard. When the Holders had trouble understanding why she had stayed with her father all those Turns even after her brothers had left his small cot, F'lar prompted her to repeat her mother's last request. That silenced the Holders for quite a few lengths down the eastern wall.

Aryanna broke the silence. "Didn't you ever consider marriage, Mara?"

Mara's nose wrinkled as if sniffing brewing fellis. "I never met a man in Keroon who made me think of marriage. But there was a man who visited the dock once." Aryanna's interest prompted more. "He was taller than me, but kinda stringy, but he smiled at everyone. He even shook hands with each of the dock workers. I think he was a Harper, but I didn't know anything about shoulder knots, so I'm not sure. The people with him called him Master, but I never heard his name. When he shook my hand, from the look in his eyes, I knew he knew that I wasn't a man, but he winked and then clapped me on the shoulder like I was a man. I thought about him a lot for a couple of Turns."

Aryanna smiled at the big woman's slight blush. "Didn't your father ever try to find you a mate?"

Mara thought for a moment and suddenly remembered a particularly meaningful event. "Da tried to get me to marry another dock worker just a couple of months ago. He said it would be for the best. But I couldn't imagine letting the man even touch me. Da got pretty mad at me for saying no." Mara looked at Aryanna with shame. "Could that be why he sold me?"

Aryanna, torn between cursing that horrid man and her instinctive need to find some measure of good in everyone, stopped Mara and took her hand. "I think, perhaps, your father wanted more for you, and didn't know how to give it. And I think, perhaps, that his anger this day was mostly at himself; he could see how happy you are here and knew that he had nothing to do with that happiness."

"But he did, even if he didn't mean to. If he hadn't sold me, I never would have been rescued."

"But you nearly died in the process, dear. Surely he feels considerable guilt over what Master Healer Tarminas relayed to him. And that probably added to his self loathing which he then directed at you."

Mara nodded as she began to piece together the picture the Lady Holder presented. It was certainly possible, but Lady Aryanna hadn't heard his thoughts. But she was trying so hard to make Mara feel better, and that alone worked immeasurably. Mara smiled her gratitude to the kind woman. "Thank you, Lady Aryanna. I never thought of that."

Aryanna nodded authoritatively. "People do strange things when they're unhappy with themselves. Sometimes they hurt the people they most love."

Mara nodded as Dorravan stepped up behind his wife and squeezed her shoulders. "We'd best let this brown rider return to her training, love."

"Of course." Aryanna released Mara's hand as she blushed slightly and turned back toward the weyrling barracks. As they continued walking, she grinned sideways at the big weyrling. "That big bronze rider certainly seemed to admire you."

Mara laughed, and blushed much to her embarrassment, but didn't try to hide it from the sweet Lady Holder. "That's G'raden. He and Normond, his bronze dragon, brought me to Benden Weyr." She shrugged self-consciously. "We were weyrmates . . . for two whole days before Klamath chose me. Three if you count the day I spent at Ista Weyr."

Aryanna was thrilled for this big sweet woman. "That explains the sparkle in his eyes, and that big grin!"

Lessa allowed the Lady Holder to tease Mara for a very short while before explaining that even thinking of such things was discouraged in weyrlings due to their young dragons' lack of understanding. When Aryanna apologized, Lessa explained that such thoughts were most potentially damaging when the dragon was awake, and since Klamath was still sleeping, no harm had been done.

So Aryanna changed her line of questioning to learn more about the telepathic bond between riders and their dragons. She was rather amazed at the level of that bond and soon found she was truly happy for her son.

As they approached the barracks and the newest weyrlings were marched past, Mara was excused to join her classmates and D'don was ordered _between_ and allowed to accompany his parents.

Aryanna nearly burst with joy at the sight of so much more confidence in her youngest son. Dorravan's hand on her shoulder conveyed similar feelings. After checking with the weyrleaders, though, the Lord Holder suggested that D'don return to his training; they would be at Benden Weyr for most of the day, so would have plenty of time to talk, and, he added with an uncharacteristic grin, to play with beautiful Gredarth. Both parents watched with pride as their son returned to the marching formation, and immediately began asking about the exercise.

The weyrleaders spent nearly a candle-mark with the Holders, always glad to improve Weyr-Hold understanding, but had to excuse themselves to prepare for Threadfall the next day.

Benoroghe, still interested in Weyr discipline, was asked if he'd like to sit in on some of F'lar's meetings. He accepted the invitation with only slight trepidation. Thread was not one of his favorite subjects, but it would be interesting to witness the Weyr's preparations; perhaps some of their techniques could be used at Fort Hold. Dorravan, not wanting to cause his wife any discomfort, declined the same offer, stating that they would rather learn more about weyrling training if that was permitted.

When Aryanna asked no one in particular where Daryanna might be, Lessa's eyes lost focus for a moment before she shared Ramoth's response; the young woman was actually sitting through a gold weyrlings' training session at the other end of the bowl.

L'ret was asked to escort the Southern Holders, much to his temporary disgruntlement; Duranth reminded him that he now had a new friend due to his earlier escort duties. He was immediately mollified when the Holder apologized for distracting him; they would be just as pleased to merely watch the training. Appreciating the holders' understanding of the importance of weyrling training relaxed L'ret enough to actually take pleasure in answering their questions. These people, at least, weren't overly concerned about the mating aspects of weyr-life, or perhaps it simply hadn't occurred to them yet.

The weyrlingmaster chuckled to himself when Dorravan and Aryanna grew concerned over the fact that Gredarth was one of the last dragons to stir from his nap. L'ret explained that three days made a big difference in the growth of dragons. They began discussing the noticeable differences between the Benden dragons and the Istan dragons.

"You keep calling them Istan dragons," said Aryanna with concern. "Are they to be returned to Ista Weyr?" D'don seemed so very happy at Benden Weyr.

"Oh, no," declared L'ret. "It's merely a way of distinguishing the five three-day younger dragons. They will all, except Saraneth, stay at Benden Weyr. Young Saraneth, though, will be returned to Ista after her training, at Queen Caylith's request."

"A dragon requested Saraneth's return?" asked Dorravan.

"Caylith, Queen dragon of Ista Weyr," clarified L'ret, "requested the return of her daughter. I believe she hopes Saraneth will lead Ista Weyr one day."

"I see," said Dorravan. "My apologies for underestimating the intelligence of these magnificent creatures."

Impressed by the man's humility, L'ret smiled sincerely. "I suppose one would naturally harbor doubts having never experienced their presence." He touched his temple to indicate the telepathic bond between riders and dragons.

When Gredarth did finally wake, Dorravan and Aryanna were encouraged to join their son, thus freeing L'ret to return to his duties, though he did extend a sincere offer to answer any questions the holders might have.

As the holders watched their son bathe his beautiful little blue, they noticed that the eyes of the Istan dragons were a different color than most of the other young dragons; they held more yellow. When L'ret passed by, they asked him why.

L'ret studied the dragons and their riders for a few moments before turning back to the concerned parents. "Whatever happened in the Council Chambers seems to be bothering Mara. When any rider is upset, her dragon _knows_. And because dragons constantly talk among themselves, the other dragons know, and if the affected rider is a friend, the dragon relays the problem to his or her rider."

"Oh, dear!" said Aryanna. "How would a rider ever have a private thought?"

L'ret smirked. "Have you ever heard the saying 'no secrets in a Weyr'?"

"Oh, my!" Aryanna blushed quite brightly before turning to hide her face in Dorravan's shoulder.

Dorravan held her close, but broke into embarrassed laughter. "That would make it difficult to hide one's problems, I suppose."

L'ret nodded. "Perhaps that's why dragonriders seldom experience depression."

In the lake, Mara also noticed Klamath's worried eyes. _What's wrong, love?_

_Why are you sad?_

_How could I be sad when I'm with you?_ Mara was immediately turned on by four little dragons and three little riders. Old habits can be so very hard to break, she mused with no amusement. "Umm, can we talk about it on dry land?"

Four smug little dragons were very helpful during the remainder of their baths, and stationed themselves facing Mara when it came time for oiling. Much to the brown weyrling's dismay, B'roghe and Dandreth joined them and took up similar stances.

"After your heads are oiled," said Mara. "I don't want my sadness to cause any accidents."

All the weyrlings in the small group were silent as they oiled their life-mates' eyes and heads. D'don's parents watched with silent interest, realizing intuitively the delicacy of the dragonets' eyes.

When Mara started working on Klamath's neck, he sat back on his haunches and glared at her. Giggles from the girls and a chuckle from B'roghe convinced her that she had stalled to the limit.

"All right," she admitted defeat and faced the others. "When I went to the Council Chambers, my sire and Lord Holder Kashman were there. They wanted me to go back to Keroon."

"They can't take you away, can they?" asked Angalyn.

"No, they cannot, and Weyrwoman Lessa reminded me of that before we even went in. But, I guess, she had to at least act like she took their demand seriously."

Cally was a little confused. "If you get to stay, why are you so sad?"

Mara shrugged and tried again to oil Klamath's neck. He backed away though, so she felt compelled to share at least part of the rest. "My sire said some really mean things."

"Like what?" Cally's innocence simply couldn't imagine anyone being mean, especially to Mara.

B'roghe, however, could imagine some of the hurtful things a father might say to a child – he had heard a few hurtful comments about Mara from other weyrlings – so took up her defense. "What was said is not important. It obviously hurt our fellow weyrling and our friend. And it will continue to hurt until we convince her that she deserves better."

"How?" asked D'don.

B'roghe grinned at the boy. "That should be easy. We simply remind her of how kind and patient she is to us and our dragons, and how much we appreciate all she does for us and with us."

Cally walked to Mara with a big smile and raised her arms for a hug. Mara dropped to her knees to accommodate her.

Hands on the big woman's shoulders, Cally turned serious. "You were my first friend at Ista Weyr and you're my best friend at Benden Weyr," she said. As she hugged her friend's neck, she whispered, "I love you, Mara."

Tears in her eyes, Mara hugged the girl without reservation. When Angalyn came close, Mara drew her in as well. D'don came closer, but looked to B'roghe for permission. Before he got a response, Cally pulled him into the group hug with help from Angalyn. Mara hugged and rocked all three until jealous dragonet muzzles started poking for attention. Four dragons were pulled into the big, but now much looser hug. Mara was thrilled that all multifaceted eyes were mostly blue with some specks of yellow in Klamath's.

Dandreth, at his rider's side, let out a pitiful moan, so was also invited into the hug and was lavished with attention from weyrlings and dragons. Mara caught B'roghe's attention and mouthed a 'thank you' just before L'ret appeared – from _between_ it seemed – to inspect their progress.

The weyrlingmaster's loud throat clearing ended the playful hugging as three weyrlings and four dragons moved away from Mara, leaving her kneeling next to Klamath. "I see shiny heads and wet faces," growled L'ret. He singled out Angalyn. "Is there a problem here, Weyrling?"

"No, sir!" Angalyn promptly began oiling Nayrith's neck.

L'ret turned to D'don, who was studiously oiling Gredarth's neck, and quickly received the same declaration. Cally's similar response was laced with a giggle, and Mara's was accompanied by a big beautiful grin.

L'ret turned to B'roghe. The bronze weyrling was just starting to oil Dandreth's eyelids – hadn't he already oiled Dandreth's entire head? wondered L'ret. The weyrlingmaster waited as patiently as he could, with arms crossed across his broad chest, until B'roghe moved on to the bronze's muzzle. "Weyrling B'roghe!" he growled. When the weyrling stood at attention, he repeated his question. "Is there a problem here, Weyrling?"

B'roghe never hesitated. "We seem to have it under control, Weyrlingmaster. But, if that situation should change, we will most certainly seek your advice."

L'ret glared at the confident young man, secretly pleased that he was demonstrating so much leadership potential. "Very well, Weyrling. Carry on." And he left to check on other weyrlings.

Dorravan and Aryanna had both felt awkward witnessing what seemed to be a disciplinary matter, but obviously was something else. After a brief whispered conversation, the Holder left his wife and caught up to L'ret. "Excuse me, Weyrlingmaster."

L'ret stopped and faced the man with what might have been irritation. "Yes, Lord Holder."

Dorravan stepped a bit closer, not wishing others to hear his question. "I'm curious, sir, as to why you didn't press the issue with the Istan weyrlings."

L'ret's eyes surveyed the area as he let out a long "Ahhh." After pointing the Lord Holder in a direction away from the nearest weyrlings, he began his response. "Two reasons, Lord Holder Dorravan." They walked just a bit further before he elaborated. "What you just witnessed, sir, was a team protecting one of their own. We encourage teamwork above almost anything else in the Weyr." He turned back toward the lake and motioned to the various groups of weyrlings. "Most of the weyrlings have already formed their own little teams. Young B'roghe," here he smiled with great appreciation, "has been moving amongst the teams, encouraging each of them, and assisting when problems do occur, as they most surely do in any group."

"Will these 'teams' then remain intact throughout training?"

"Oh, no. We'll break them up from time to time, rearranging until everyone has had the chance to work with everyone else. They'll learn to expand their concept of 'team' until the entire Weyr is included, and then, hopefully, even further until all dragonriders are seen as part of the team."

Dorravan was impressed, but still a bit confused. "Shouldn't the leader of the teams be aware of any problems?"

"B'roghe stated it perfectly. Should they be unable to handle their problem, they will come to me or another senior rider."

"You said there were two reasons for not pressing the weyrlings for an answer."

"Ahh, yes. One: they are developing a teamwork mentality, and two: I already know the problem, and the source of the problem, thanks to my Duranth; and, I'm sure the weyrleaders, or Mara, will fill me in on any _relevant_ details later this day."

"Ahh," Dorravan smiled slightly. "No secrets in a Weyr?"

"Exactly!" declared L'ret as they returned to the lake.

After several steps, Dorravan could not hold back a burning question. "None?"

L'ret laughed and shrugged one shoulder. "Very few, sir. Our dragons do learn what is most important to us, and most will protect at least that much, unless it becomes a hazard to us or others."

"Fascinating!" After several more steps, the Lord Holder smiled without reserve. L'ret's questioning glance prompted an explanation. "D'don will be very happy here. He detests secrets."

L'ret smiled at the man – seeing his obvious relief – and worried about young D'don's ability to keep necessary secrets; he would have to talk to the boy to learn more. A Weyr didn't have a lot of secrets, but this Weyr had a few more than others.

The two men joined the Istan weyrlings, and B'roghe. Aryanna's face shone with joy and pride. She quickly told her husband that beautiful Gredarth had chosen to speak to her. He was curious about the excessive fabric she was wearing; didn't that make working more difficult, he had asked. With her husband's consent – she didn't want to embarrass him – the Lady Holder quickly pulled the back of her long skirt up between her legs and tucked it into her belt, so she could help finish the blue's oiling. The girls, including Mara, were fascinated that such an unwieldy skirt could be made so functional. Cally told how her mother had worn trousers unless they had visitors at their Hold. Aryanna quickly admitted that she did the same, and would be sure to wear – or at least bring – more suitable clothing on her next visit to Benden Weyr.

Daryanna strolled toward the lake between the two weyrling queen riders, looking rather proud of herself – until she spotted her mother with her skirt hiked up. The gold weyrlings were most congenial in their greetings to Dorravan and Aryanna, and both complimented the Lady Holder on her practicality, to Daryanna's embarrassment.

The dragonets were included in another round of marching exercises, and the Southern Holders watched with fascination as the little dragons picked up new maneuvers. On questioning their daughter, they were quite pleased – though privately – that she had decided not to offer herself for the next queen egg. She didn't say, but her parents suspected that the gold weyrlings had told her about all the hard work they would be expected to do for the rest of their lives. Daryanna had made it quite clear on more than one occasion that she fully expected to live a life of leisure when she left her parents Hold.

Several weyrling pairs were ordered _between_ and then to return to duty. They learned quickly the proper way to return to their assigned positions. The Holders were only slightly bothered by the reasoning for such exercises. They weren't quite ready to imagine their young son fighting Thread.

As dragons began dropping out of the formation – the smallest Istans first – Dorravan and Aryanna joined their son to observe the feeding process. They became concerned when D'don was reminded by Harper 'Mack' to check Gredarth's food carefully. Mack – after explaining that D'don had _not_ shown any disrespect by calling him 'Mack' – sat with the Holders while D'don fed Gredarth, and explained what had happened, and all the precautions that were being taken for the safety of all the weyrlings and their dragons. D'don tried to make light of the situation, saying that precautions were necessary everywhere, not just here, and that these were just slightly different precautions than what they were accustomed to.

Holder Dorravan, quite proud of his son's efforts to ease his mother's mind, quickly agreed that each situation required a different set of precautions, and surely the Weyr would properly prepare all their new riders, unlike their original Lord Holder in Southern Hold.

After all the Istan dragons had eaten and started their final nap of the day, L'ret asked the green weyrlings to help dispatch a herd-beast. Mara would join them shortly and D'don was excused this day, or would have been if he hadn't volunteered anyway.

L'ret was pleased that the young blue rider was so eager to prove himself, so had no problem keeping the boy's parents occupied for awhile. He and Mara answered their questions until a horrible scream echoed around the bowl.

After each spun trying to locate the scream, Mara turned to L'ret. "That's Angalyn!"

"Go!"


	23. More Family Matters

Wendy Hirst: search for 'Mara's Story' and match title. You should really read the first story leading up to Mara's impression of Klamath. If you would create an account, I could answer some of your questions, but not if you don't have an account. I'm thrilled that you like these stories, and THANKS for all the reviews!

And I don't say it near enough: THANK YOU REVIEWERS ALL! You are my continuing inspiration (and sometimes the seeds of more ideas!).

* * *

"Yes, sir!" Mara nodded at Weyrlingmaster L'ret and then quickly to Holder Dorravan and Lady Aryanna before walking as fast as possible to the butchering area. With her long, powerful legs, walking was almost as fast as her awkward run, and certainly safer.

_Listening_ to Angalyn, Mara heard fear and disbelief and anger at the sight of blood on her hands. _I'm dying!_ was the girl's most coherent thought; all others were a jumble of words including many 'no's and 'stop's.

Nayrith, near the lake, began bellowing in distress at her rider's emotional turmoil, and was soon joined by other young dragons, barely asleep yet.

In the butchering area, weyrlingmaster's assistant L'terick stood away from Angalyn, D'don and Cally each held under one arm. Angalyn sat hunched against the wall of the great bowl, bloody hands held as far as possible from her terrified, tear-stained face. She alternately screamed and yelled.

Mara went to L'terick first. Without even being asked, he shook his head and said he had no idea what happened. They were skinning the beast one moment, and Angalyn was screaming the next.

Mara looked around quickly and found the stack of clean rags. Taking a large one, she approached the girl. "Angalyn, look at me!" The girl didn't even register her presence. Mara dropped to one knee, placed the rag over the bloodied hands and held them firmly. "Angalyn, look at me!"

Angalyn calmed almost immediately when the blood was hidden. Confused, she finally looked at Mara. Sobbing, she managed, "Am I going to die?"

"No! You are not going to die, Angalyn!" The girl's mental confusion frightened Mara. She pulled the girl off the ground and into one arm while keeping her hands covered with the other. One hand held the girl's head to her shoulder as she used the other to start wiping blood from the girl's hands.

Still sobbing, Angalyn nearly choked several times as she spoke. "I've never seen so much blood. I didn't know I had that much."

"It's not your blood, Angalyn. The blood on your hands is from the herd-beast."

"It's not mine?"

Now the girl was truly confused. The pictures in her mind did not include any beasts, only men. Mara quickly deciphered what she was remembering, and cried with her. Rocking, choking on her own tears, and still trying to wipe the girl's hands, Mara tried to sooth with, "No, it's not yours, Angalyn. You're fine. You're at Benden Weyr, in weyrling training, with pretty green Nayrith. No one here is going to hurt you, Angalyn."

After Mara's arrival, and seeing that the blood was the cause of Angalyn's fear, Cally had run to the lake with several more rags to wet them. After running back, she walked closer to Mara and Angalyn. On seeing Mara's tears, she gently took Angalyn's hands and began washing them with slow, gentle strokes.

L'ret led frightened Nayrith into the group. As he led the little green toward her rider, he questioned L'terick with a look.

L'terick, having made his own deduction from what he had heard, merely shook his head as he fought back tears of his own.

"D'don," said L'ret gently – the boy was still under L'terick's arm, wide eyed and confused. "How is Gredarth?"

D'don didn't hesitate. "He's . . . scared, sir."

Good, thought L'ret; the boy is still in contact with his dragon. "Go see to him, son."

"Yes, sir." D'don sounded far too excited about following those orders, and quickly ran back to the lake.

Nayrith, as tired as she was, ran the last short bit to her rider and snaked her head up her chest between her arms. _No one will hurt us here!_ She made soft cooing sounds until Angalyn calmed down enough to register her presence and hear her mental voice. _No one will hurt us anymore!_

_What happened here?_ asked L'ret of Mara as she continued rocking the girl.

A few moments of thought were required to formulate an answer after so many confusing thoughts and memories from Angalyn. _All the blood on her hands brought back a memory. She was . . . hurt . . . by a group of sailors, and bled so much, she thought she was dying._

L'ret's jaw worked furiously as he ground his teeth and shook his head. How on Pern could something like this happen? And not just to poor little Angalyn! Mara was surely reliving her own horrifying experience while _listening_ to the girl. _Can you take her to the healers?_ A nod and attempted smile was only partially comforting. _Take Nayrith as well, or she'll never get back to sleep._

_Yes, sir._

Even when the blood had all been removed, Cally had continued stroking Angalyn's arms and hands, first with a dry cloth and then with her own hands. As her friend became more aware of her surroundings, though, and Nayrith, Cally stopped her loving ministrations.

Angalyn finally began stroking Nayrith's head and neck. "I'm so sorry, my sweet Nayrith. I didn't mean to wake you up."

Mara carefully and slowly let Angalyn stand on her own, and smiled her best attempt at a Harper smile. "Now that's she is awake, she can come with us to see the healers."

The green weyrling looked frightened for just a moment, but nodded when she remembered it was time to have her bandages changed anyway.

Mara stood, with help from L'ret, and offered a hand to Angalyn. "Can you walk? Or would you like a dragonback ride?"

Angalyn actually smiled as she blushed and looked at the ground. "I can walk. Thank you."

Before either weyrling could move, L'ret leaned down to speak gently with Angalyn. "You do know you're safe here, don't you Weyrling?"

"Yes, sir." The girl smiled, but had trouble looking at the weyrlingmaster.

"Do you?"

Now Angalyn giggled. "Nayrith says that all the dragons say we're safe here, and they will eat anyone who tries to hurt us."

L'ret nodded once with great exaggeration. "And if they don't, I will!"

Even as she smiled, new tears trailed down the girl's cheeks. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry I caused so much trouble."

L'ret gently lifted her chin with one finger, giving her every opportunity to back away from his touch. "It's best for you and for Nayrith that this came out now rather than later. You go see the healers now, and talk to them. Tell them everything that happened. Then you'll be able to put this behind you, Angalyn," now his gruffness returned as he held her chin with thumb and finger, "and get back to training with Nayrith."

Having been fully apprised of L'ret's character by Cally, Angalyn fought a grin. "Yes, sir."

While the weyrlingmaster spoke with the green weyrling, Mara spoke with Klamath. He had entered the area with Nayrith and gone to L'terick's side. He knew how upset the little green was, and therefore how upset her rider was, and that Mara was helping to calm them both, so withheld any comments while his rider took care of his friends. Mara was so proud of her little brown for putting aside his own fears and anxiety, she felt another rush of tears – happy tears, she had to explain to Klamath.

When Mara and Angalyn, Nayrith close at her side, began their trek to the Healers' Cavern, Klamath followed.

"Klamath!" barked L'ret. "You should finish your nap."

Klamath turned to face the weyrlingmaster and sat on his haunches. _I'm going with my rider and Nayrith._ The set of his small head left no doubt that his mind was also set.

Shocked both by Klamath speaking directly to him yet again and such a decisive manner in such a young dragon, L'ret simply grimaced with mouth corners twitching upward. "Very well, Klamath." As the young brown turned and ran to catch his rider, L'ret broke into a face-splitting grin.

K'remin was asked to accompany the Istan weyrlings, which turned out quite helpful when little Nayrith simply ran out of energy about halfway to the healers. K'remin carried the little green while Angalyn kept a hand on her tail and helped Mara coax Klamath 'just a few more steps'.

When Klamath finally used the last drop of his reserve energy, Mara offered to carry him and received only concern; Klamath needed help, but he knew he was getting heavier and didn't want to hurt his rider. Mara soothed him with several tales of how much she had carried on the docks of Keroon until he finally relented. When they were in proper position, and Mara tried to stand though, a muscle in her back rebelled, causing both dragon and rider to verbally complain.

K'remin quickly called the nearest big rider for assistance.

A deep bass voice interrupted the brown pair's complaints. "May I help?"

Klamath hissed as Mara sighed loudly and then began chuckling. _It's all right, love. Please don't hiss at G'raden._

Klamath's hissing stopped, but he glared at the big bronze rider while talking to his own rider. _But your belly feels funny, and you're tingling all over. Why does he do that?_

_He doesn't do it on purpose, Klamath. His voice and his face just bring back really nice memories._

_Memories of tingling?_

_Uh huh. And much, much more that I will _not_ talk to you about until you are a little older._

_It doesn't really hurt, does it?_

_No, my love, it doesn't hurt. It just feels funny._

Klamath's next thoughts were directed at G'raden. _Why do you make her feel funny?_

G'raden's surprised laughter could be heard throughout Benden Weyr's bowl while Mara buried her face in her brown's neck. The big man crouched close to the pair and spoke to the little brown. "Probably the same reason she makes me feel so funny. Every time I see your rider, Klamath, I get all warm and tingly and my tummy does a wherry dance."

_Why?_

"How old are you?"

Klamath growled softly. _Not old enough for my rider to tell me about it._

"Please believe me, Klamath. I will never hurt you or your rider."

_That's what Mara said._

"So, may I help?" G'raden's question was directed at both rider and dragon.

Mara managed to look at the man, but blushed horribly. She then spoke to Klamath. "We do need help, Klamath, and I trust G'raden to keep you safe more than anyone else."

Klamath released his supportive hold on his still crouching rider, sat further back on his haunches and addressed both riders. _All right._ He watched suspiciously as his rider and G'raden shared smiles, and stood ready to pounce as the big man helped his rider to her feet. And then he let the bronze rider direct him into what _he_ thought was a proper position, and was finally lifted off the ground by strong, but gentle arms. Feeling Mara's trust in the man, the little brown wrapped his long neck around G'raden's and his tail around the big man's waist.

The remaining distance was only slightly more than a dragon's length and didn't take long to traverse once all were moving again. Mara kept one hand on Klamath as she tried to avoid looking at his ride. At least Klamath accepted that she wasn't hurting, she mused with tightly restrained excitement.

An apprentice at the entrance to the Healers' Cavern was informed that Angalyn had been injured, and was asked if perhaps Journeywoman Loralin was available to see her. The apprentice disappeared briefly but returned and escorted the entire group into a large examination room. The men lowered the young dragons to the floor and left the girls to wait for Loralin. The girls helped their lifemates find an open wall to lie near to avoid being disturbed. Brown and green dragonets curled up together and quickly fell asleep despite their best efforts to keep track of their riders.

The girls talked about inconsequential things – what had been served for the midday meal and D'don's pleasant parents – until Loralin arrived; Mara didn't want to push Angalyn to talk about her problem this day until the Healer was present.

Out of nowhere, Angalyn asked the brown rider a perplexing question. "Why does that bronze rider bother Klamath but not you?" she asked with a frown.

Mara took a deep breath and smiled, and tried to stop the heat rising on her face. "Umm, G'raden and I were weyrmates for a couple of days. Do you know what that means?"

The young green rider nodded her head slowly as her eyes darted in every direction trying to avoid looking at the brown rider. After several false starts, she finally managed, "But, you said you were hurt by some men. Doesn't . . . being with G'raden scare you?"

Mara's blush disappeared as she suddenly realized why Angalyn had been so hesitant to let any man touch her in any way. Mara had already forgotten her fears after her experience at Keroon Gather; the men of Benden Weyr could be gruff, but had never – except perhaps G'regg – given her any reason to fear them. But, of course, Mara was considerably bigger than little Angalyn, and a good number of the men at Benden Weyr. "It did at first. I never had a good experience with mating. But G'raden is so kind and sweet and gentle, and he said more than once that he'd stop if I asked him to, and," here, the big woman shrugged and began blushing again; "it was really wonderful!"

Angalyn studied the big woman, who was smiling and blushing and even shivering a bit. It was obvious that she had enjoyed her time with the big bronze rider, but Angalyn just couldn't imagine why; her first, forced experience had been so very frightening, and painful. But she remembered such behavior in her mother on some mornings, and now wondered for the first time about her mother's 'time' with her father. Tears welled as she wished yet again that her mother hadn't come down with that terrible fever two Turns ago. What would her mother have been able to tell her about all this mating stuff? She'd only once mentioned the monthly cycle thing – for which Angalyn had been extremely grateful when her first cycle hit, for her father had gone mostly silent after the fever took her mother – but they had never talked about such things in much detail. Maybe they would have talked more if they had known she would die so young.

"Angalyn?" Mara _heard_ the girl's thoughts, but didn't want to let on.

"I miss my mother." The young girl made a heroic effort at not crying. "We never got to talk about such things."

Mara leaned closer and put a hand to the girl's face. "I miss my mother too, and she died when I was six."

"Then, how did you learn about all this mating stuff?"

The big woman grinned and shrugged. "G'raden taught me."

"You trust him?"

"Very much!"

Journeywoman Loralin knocked on the door once before walking into the room. She grinned at the little dragons curled up against one wall, but her grin faded as she saw the tears in the young green rider's eyes. "I was told you were hurt. What happened?" When the girl lowered her head to hide her tears, the healer turned to Mara.

"Weyrling Angalyn was helping to butcher a beast . . ."

"Did you cut yourself, Angalyn?" Loralin winked at Mara as a sort of apology for interrupting.

"No, ma'am."

As Angalyn apparently wasn't going to say anymore, Mara continued. "When they started skinning the beast, Angalyn's hands got bloody, and . . ." Mara left her statement unfinished, hoping Angalyn would complete the story.

"Are you afraid of blood, Angalyn?"

"No, ma'am. Not usually."

Loralin moved three lightweight chairs into a circle and motioned the girls to sit. Angalyn sat perfectly erect with hands folded in her lap, but with her head down. The healer put a hand over the girl's, hoping to gain her attention. "What happened, Angalyn?"

When the girl only shrugged, Mara winked at Loralin. "She's very brave." A surprised Angalyn looked at the big woman. Mara pretended to not notice and spoke to the healer. "I'm not sure I'm brave enough to disobey Weyrlingmaster L'ret's orders."

"What?" squeaked out Angalyn.

"Didn't Weyrlingmaster L'ret tell you to talk to the healers? To tell them everything that happened?"

"But . . ." _It's private! _thought the girl with more than a bit of anger.

"Talking about what hurts us helps make the hurt go away," offered Mara. "It helped me."

Angalyn first glared at Mara, but the glare quickly transformed into a grimace and then tears as she again lowered her head. "Father said it was my fault. That if I'd acted more like a boy, or been more careful in the head, that it never would have happened."

Loralin prompted gently. "What happened, Angalyn?"

"He said that if I'd just worked harder, we could have found work on a ship to Tillek. That's where his family lives, and he wanted to go back to Tillek, but didn't have enough marks, so we were working to save enough marks to go to Tillek."

Loralin put a gentle hand on the girl's face and turned her tear-stained face until their eyes met. "What happened, Angalyn?"

Angalyn had trouble speaking due to her sobbing and occasional gasps, but tried to do as ordered. "They caught me in the head, sitting instead of standing, and started just teasing, but then pulled me up and saw that I wasn't a boy. And then . . . some of them left, but most of them stayed, and . . ." she took a long painful sounding breath. "It hurt so much. And I bled, and I didn't know I even had that much blood, and then they all just left, laughing, and I thought I was going to die right there in the head, all alone, and I miss my mother so much."

Loralin, having moved her chair much closer, had slowly pulled the girl's head to her soft breast, rocking as the girl rambled and cried. "They raped you?"

The girl nodded and wept. "Again and again and again for candle-marks it seemed. If only I'd . . ."

"This was not your fault, Angalyn." Loralin pushed her back gently and held her face firmly until the girl met her eyes. "This was not your fault!"

"But, if I were stronger . . ."

"HA!" blubbered Mara through her own tears. "I'm pretty strong, and it still happened to me!"

"Some men are just mean, Angalyn, and stupid and selfish. And when a group of stupid men get together, no woman is safe."

Angalyn looked rather frightened. "There are so many men here."

Loralin laughed gently. "Yes, there are! But you won't find any stupid men in a Weyr. Their dragons won't allow it!"

The three girls talked for some time about how to detect and avoid stupid men. And they talked about the men of Benden Weyr. Loralin's extensive knowledge on this subject entertained and educated both weyrlings. And then the healer got back to immediate concerns.

"Angalyn, dear, had you started your menses cycles before you were raped?"

"You mean my monthlies?" When Loralin nodded, so did Angalyn. "About a Turn ago."

"And when were you raped, dear?"

Angalyn shuddered, but didn't give in to tears as she considered her answer. "Two – maybe three – months ago. It always seems like just yesterday, but it was in the fourth month."

"Have you had your monthlies since then?"

Angalyn's face went pale as she shook her head slowly and searched the healer's eyes.

"Have you been feeling queasy in the morning?"

The girl nodded. "But I have bad dreams. I thought that was why."

Loralin smiled. "Do your breasts tingle?"

Angalyn blushed and had trouble looking at the healer. "Isn't that part of growing into a woman?"

The healer grinned sweetly as she took the girl's hands in hers. "You never got to talk to your mother about growing up?" When tears welled in Angalyn's eyes, Loralin pulled her into a hug. "That's all right, sweetie. We can talk about it more real soon." She gently pushed the girl back far enough to watch her face. "But I think there is a very real possibility you might be carrying a child."

Angalyn stared at the healer as if she had spoken some Ancient language. Her jaw dropped as her face lost all color.

Loralin held her shoulders firmly. "We need to find out for sure so we can take appropriate measures. It is quite possible that your bad dreams have caused your sickness in the morning, and that the tingling is just part of growing, but if you are with child, time is running out to make any important decisions."

The girl barely squeaked, "Decisions?"

"If you don't want to carry a child, we can give you some herbs to end this, but if you do want this child, we need to give you some different herbs to keep you healthy."

Angalyn began gasping for air as tear-filled eyes darted around the room.

Loralin looked to Mara for assistance. The brown rider had more knowledge of this girl than the healer.

Mara began rubbing Angalyn's back gently, avoiding her bandages. "Angalyn? Let's not panic, yet." She looked at Loralin. "How can we tell if she is carrying a child?"

"There is a blood test we can do. Aivas taught us how to look at blood to see if a woman is pregnant."

"You want my blood?" This frightened the girl even more than the possibility of bearing a child.

"Sshh." Mara ran a hand over the girl's curls. "Just a little bit, Angalyn. Journeywoman Loralin took some of my blood for Masterhealer Oldive, and it didn't even hurt."

Between Mara holding Angalyn on her lap and Loralin explaining every step in the blood collecting process - including just how much blood the human body held - a sample was finally extracted for testing at Landing with very little stress to the girl. Loralin explained that it would take a couple of days so the weyrling should not worry about anything until the results were sent back to Benden Weyr.

As the dragons were still _between_ in sleep, and Loralin wasn't too busy this afternoon – which required only a brief discussion with Master Healer Tarminas – the girls stayed in the examination room talking about the consequences of which ever decision Angalyn might make. Loralin also changed Angalyn's bandages, inspecting her healing wounds carefully, as they also discussed the possibility of stress being the cause of Angalyn's symptoms, and then, to lighten the mood, what they might expect in upcoming weyrling training.

Mara _listened_ carefully to the girl's sometimes confused thoughts. She wasn't ready to have a baby, but wasn't ready to simply end the pregnancy either. Understandably, Angalyn was not easy to distract from the decision she might have to make, but the girl did try hard to put off worrying.

L'ret, after several candle-marks, asked Mara telepathically what was happening, and Mara dutifully gave a full report, knowing it wasn't exactly a private matter in a Weyr, and certainly not when a weyrling was involved, and trusting, after the man's initial shock, that L'ret would be understanding and compassionate. L'ret allowed that Mara should stay with the girl, but reminded her, in an obviously teasing manner, that she was falling further behind.

When the dragons began stirring, Angalyn was eager to focus on her little Nayrith. After thanking Loralin for all her help, the weyrlings led hungry, itchy dragons back to the lake.

L'ret walked partway to meet them out of hearing distance of the other weyrlings. "Ahh, you look better already," he said as he approached the green weyrling with what might well be a smile on his craggy face. "Are you ready to get back to training?"

Angalyn nodded reluctantly, but followed with a more vehement, "Yes, sir."

Seeing her reluctance and knowing the full story, L'ret leaned forward to speak quietly with the girl. "Is there anything you'd like to tell me?"

Angalyn nearly panicked; tears welled up again and she turned to Mara for help.

"There may not be anything to tell," said Mara to the girl, giving her the opportunity to digest the information she had just received, and decide how and when to share with others.

"Hmm," said L'ret. "Have you been cleared for full duty yet?"

"No, sir. I'm sorry."

As the girl's head dropped, L'ret lifted her chin again with one finger. "You have nothing to be sorry about, Weyrling Angalyn. Understood?"

Angalyn shrugged and tried to lower her gaze.

L'ret lifted her chin yet again until she met his eyes. "We all do the best we can with whatever situation arises. Right now, you need to take care of yourself and your pretty little green. Understood?"

Cally's reading of this man resurfaced, allowing Angalyn to smile as she said, "Yes, sir."

"Good!" He gently pinched her chin between finger and thumb. "You keep that pretty chin up, and don't be afraid to ask for help."

"Yes, sir."

"Now," rumbled the weyrlingmaster as he stood up straight. "You two _get_ _back to work_!" He growled for extra effect and then stomped a foot when two grinning weyrlings responded with far too cheerful 'Yes, sir's.

L'ret watched with fists on his belt as two weyrlings and their dragons nearly skipped to the barracks for needed supplies. A bit late, he realized that neither dragon had so much as changed eye color as he ordered the girls back to work. 'Shards,' he thought, 'I'm getting too soft with these weyrlings.'

The girls bathed and oiled their dragons with a bit of help from Master Mack, who had been requested to watch the late Istan arrivals. Angalyn did her very best to concentrate on Nayrith, but would occasionally don a blank expression or touch her belly.

Mara and Mack spoke telepathically about what had been discovered and how Angalyn would not make any decisions until blood tests confirmed her pregnancy. Mack, with Bista's help, was quite successful in refocusing Angalyn's attention when necessary.

Nayrith was already beginning to trust that she would be fed, so weyrlings and dragons joined the marching exercises. The Istan dragons all lasted almost as long as the Benden dragons this afternoon.

When feeding time came, the other Istan weyrlings all seemed truly worried about their friend. Angalyn, though, would only say that she was fine and really wanted to concentrate on Nayrith.

Her fellow Istans and B'roghe were thoughtful enough to not ask questions throughout the evening meal, even when Angalyn seemed to disappear _between_ in her thoughts.

After a few evening chores – during which D'don said farewell to his parents - the Istans, B'roghe, and several other weyrlings met again to read L'ret's transcripts and to discuss the training they had received thus far. Angalyn lost track of the conversation several times, but again, her friends did not ask questions.

When the other weyrlings returned to the main barracks however, B'roghe could hold his worried tongue no more.

"Angalyn?" he asked gently. "Are you all right?" A slow nod did not encourage the caring young man. "What happened earlier?"

The girl took a deep breath and let it out quickly, as if too weak to hold it for very long. She looked at Mara hoping for some help. She didn't really want to talk about any of what had happened, but didn't like keeping secrets from people she considered friends.

Mara smiled sympathetically. "Talking helps the hurt go away, and I don't think anyone here will spread the word until you say it's all right."

Cally, seeing her friend's distress, moved to sit closer to Angalyn and placed a comforting hand on the girl's knee. "It started with the blood on your hands, right?"

Angalyn looked at her hands, closed her tearing eyes, and nodded. "It reminded me of what happened a few months ago."

D'don, feeling rather protective of both these green riders, sat on Angalyn's other side, but didn't touch her. "What happened? Did you cut yourself?"

Angalyn actually smiled – remembering Loralin's response – but didn't look up yet. She spoke quietly. "No, I was raped."

B'roghe, sitting on a cot facing the girl, gasped in shock. After several attempts to control his temper, he managed to bluster only slightly. "Who did that to you, Angalyn?"

The fury in his 'controlled' question caused the green weyrling to look at the young man. He was angry . . . but not at her . . . for her! She stared at him for several heartbeats, surprised that someone she barely knew could be so angry on her behalf. "Sailors, on a trading vessel my father and I were working."

B'roghe was having a terrible time controlling his normally moderate temper. He wanted to hug this poor child, and he wanted to scream, and he wanted to hurt whoever did this to such a young girl. He wound up merely shaking his head with tears flowing freely. He reached out a hand to her, but pulled it back understanding she would probably find no comfort in a hug from any man right now.

"I might be carrying a baby," added the girl. The gasps from her friends – except Mara, of course – had her searching their faces. B'roghe now looked worried and confused, as well as angry. Cally looked rather awestruck, and D'don looked totally dumbfounded. She giggled at D'don's expression. "We won't know until Landing tests my blood. It will take a couple of days."

Her young friends were suddenly full of questions. Cally asked, "What are you going to do?"

D'don asked, "A baby?"

Cally asked, "What will happen to weyrling training?"

D'don repeated, "A baby?"

Cally asked, "What does Nayrith think about this?"

D'don asked again, "A baby?"

B'roghe's temper dissipated as he saw poor Angalyn flop between shrugging with confusion at Cally's questions and grinning at D'don's disbelief. He knew he couldn't change the girl's past, but he could certainly protect her now. "You do know what a baby is, don't you, D'don?"

All three girls chuckled or giggled as D'don became rather indignant with the bronze weyrling. "Of course, I know what a baby is!" Then he looked back at Angalyn. "But . . . a baby?"

Now everyone laughed at the boy, including Angalyn who was now feeling much less alone and much less frightened. Tears of relief flowed freely as she grinned at her shocked friend. She put her hand on his knee and said, "Maybe."

B'roghe, wanting so badly to offer comfort, scooted off the cot and dropped to one knee an arm's length in front of the girl. He held his hands close to his own body, but open, offering a hug if she wished. "Are you all right, Angalyn?"

Angalyn smiled at the handsome, caring bronze weyrling. "I have some decisions to think about, but I think I'll be all right." The concern in his eyes tugged at her heart.

"If you need anything, Angalyn, please ask. If you need to talk, or ask questions, or," B'roghe shrugged, "just help doing anything . . ."

He seemed so desperate, and almost lost, and looked absolutely pitiful; Angalyn couldn't resist putting a hand to the side of his face. "Thank you, B'roghe."

When the bronze weyrling opened his hands a little wider, extending his invitation, Angalyn stood and walked into his arms, trusting this young man like she wouldn't have believed possible just a few candle-marks earlier.

Even as B'roghe gently hugged and rocked the green rider, all laughed yet again as D'don reminded them of his confusion.

"A baby?"

* * *

Well, now, all the main characters have been introduced, so maybe (?) we can get moving along with this 'little' story.

Thank you all for your wonderful reviews!


	24. So Much To Think About!

So sorry for such a long delay. Several conversations took wrong turns and it took days to find the key turning point in each of them. Hope you'll find the results satisfying!

* * *

The Istan weyrlings, B'roghe and Master Mack allowed Angalyn to direct the evening's pre-sleep discussion. She relayed most of what Loralin had told her about the decisions she would have to make and the herbs she would be given and just how much blood a human carried. She left out the healer's impressions of the individual men of Benden Weyr, though – that would be gossip, after all – but did share the healer's overall impression of Benden's men.

Her friends listened and asked a few questions, but none pressed her for her opinions just yet as it was obvious – even to D'don – she was extremely confused at present. She shared that her mother had never been able to have a second child due to her generally weak constitution, and they answered her questions to the best of their abilities about caring for babies.

B'roghe and D'don told stories about their younger siblings when they were babies and Mara told stories about raising Markalan. Cally, also being an only child, offered to introduce her friend to Pricella and T'mos whose baby was only three days old now. Cally had spent some of her free time with the family soaking up information for future use and helping Pricella whenever T'mos would allow.

After a long, frightening, confusing, and finally relief-filled day, Angalyn quickly faded. She allowed Cally to treat her with numbweed even with the boys present, and fell asleep to the sounds of friendly discussions about siblings.

When Cally was certain her friend was _between_ in sleep, she walked toward the exit of the small weyr.

B'roghe stopped her; it was getting dark outside, and he was well aware that the Istans were to stay together.

Cally informed him – and Mack, who had been listening the whole time – that Pricella said salty bread had helped her on the mornings when she was feeling ill, and she wanted to go to the kitchens to get some salty bread for her friend who didn't need to feel ill on top of all her other problems right now.

Mack offered to send Bista, who seconded his offer with a pleasant chirp, but Cally said in a slightly choked voice that she could use some air as well.

After a short discussion with Master Mack, B'roghe – with an alert gold fire lizard on his shoulder as a compromise to the Harper – walked with Cally to the kitchens to obtain the needed salty bread.

Halfway across the bowl, Cally broke into tears. B'roghe comforted her as she vented her concerns and fears for her friend, reminding her that no decisions had been made yet and that either way, Angalyn would get help from lots of people throughout the Weyr. The future healer felt much better by the time they reached the kitchens.

In the Main Living Cavern, a pair of drudges was preparing the night hearth. An older woman was most helpful in finding the supply of dried salty bread and – knowing what the need probably indicated – also offered a thermos of calming tea to be drunk after eating the bread.

While the tea brewed, the weyrlings questioned the woman on her knowledge of bearing a child without ever mentioning or even hinting at Angalyn's identity.

As they left, the kind woman patted Cally on the shoulder. "You take good care of yourself, dear. That's the best thing you can do for any baby." And then she winked at B'roghe.

Dumbfounded, both weyrlings thanked the woman again before leaving.

A few steps past the entrance, Cally stopped and turned to her now grinning companion. "She thinks _I'm_ with child!" Her jaw dropped at B'roghe's response.

"And she thinks I'm the father."

Cally turned around and marched purposefully back toward the kitchen, or would have if B'roghe hadn't caught her by the arm and spun her back to face him.

"What are you doing, Cally?"

"I'm going to set her straight! How dare she even think such a thing?"

B'roghe dropped to one knee to be face to face with the girl. "And what exactly are you going to tell her?"

"I'm gonna tell her that I'm not pregnant. I'm only eleven! And you wouldn't do that to any weyrling! Would you?"

B'roghe laughed. "No, Cally, I would not. But what will you tell her when she asks who the bread and tea are for?"

Cally stammered. She hadn't thought of that. "Not me!"

"And when she presses us for an answer?"

The green weyrling pursed her lips and stomped her foot. "It's none of her business!"

"After all the questions we asked? Put yourself in her position, Cally. What would you think if a girl and a boy asked so many questions about having a baby? Does she really deserve such a rude answer?"

Cally did as suggested. She and her parents had many times pretended to be other people, though Cally wasn't aware yet just how much their play acting had taught her about people. Her lips twitched from one side of her face to the other while she worked a toe into the sand. "We still have to tell her," she said sheepishly.

B'roghe smiled. "Yes, we do! But is there another way to protect our friend's identity?"

"Can we tell her . . . our friend doesn't want anyone to know yet?"

"That would be far more kind, and just as honest." The tall young man stood and offered his hand to the little girl.

Together, they corrected the kitchen drudge, who immediately called over her fellow worker to correct what she had told him. The woman was most apologetic about misinterpreting the weyrlings' visit, and very understanding about any woman wanting to keep such a secret for a short while. As a special thank you for taking such good care of their friend, the woman offered them each a sweet roll. They were left over from the morning meal, she said as she pulled two treats from a high shelf in the night hearth, but still just as tasty.

On the walk back to the Istan weyr, between munching on their sweet rolls, they discussed the possibilities should Cally have corrected the woman in anger, and then Cally wondered aloud if perhaps letting her believe what she did would have hurt anything. Just as quickly, she corrected herself; what had made her so mad in the first place was what such a rumor could have done to B'roghe's reputation.

B'roghe was surprised, but pleased and touched that young Cally understood how easily a person's reputation could be damaged. He was also surprised, and worried, that she had not considered what such a rumor could have done to her own reputation. He used very youth friendly terms to explain to the confused girl how others might see her as an early bloomer and an easy mark.

oOoOoOo

The next day was another Thread fighting day. This Fall would be in the late afternoon, cover only a small portion of Benden Weyr's area, and would thankfully be in an area less prone to funnel clouds.

Cally's gift of salty bread and tea was well received by Angalyn, who found she could actually eat some real food a little later at the morning meal.

When Angalyn lost concentration during class and then marching exercises, L'ret called her aside. His honest concern caused the girl to open up and share Loralin's concerns, and how that was causing her to lose concentration. L'ret hugged her when she cried and was pleased that she even allowed it – she was making good progress already – and then called Cally out of formation. Both weyrlings were ordered to visit Pricella and T'mos. Duranth had already checked with Rineth and both girls would be welcomed by the new parents. They were not expected to return until their dragons woke from their naps.

L'terick loaded the girls onto Quinteth, fastened a long strap around each of them onto his own riding straps, and flew them up to the couple's weyr.

The two newest green weyrlings missed firestone moving this day, but learned a great deal from green rider Pricella's personal experiences with both options Angalyn would be faced with _if_ she was found to actually be pregnant. Pricella, being close friends with Loralin, knew full well how certain the healer was about Angalyn's condition, but also understood giving such a young girl a few days to digest the facts prior to making any choices. Personally, thought Pricella, she would have simply accepted the healer's diagnosis and dealt with it right away, but then, she had never been raped and had been fully prepared to prevent pregnancy when her dear Rineth began her mating flights. The only time she had chosen to stop a pregnancy was when she had forgotten to take her morning herbs for over a sevenday just prior to Rineth rising. Not having a special weyrmate at the time, she had felt unwilling and unable to deal with a pregnancy on her own. That, she did not pass on to the girls, not wishing to influence Angalyn with her own feelings. When asked why she chose to end the pregnancy, she simply stated that she hadn't felt the time was right for her.

The girls were each given the opportunity to hold tiny Tomella and to watch and ask questions as Pricella breastfed her.

After a short period of silence as all watched the baby suckle contentedly, Angalyn asked how Rineth felt about Tomella. Pricella explained that her green was old enough to understand how much her rider wanted a child, and to entertain herself with the other dragons. She also told how she spent at least a couple candle-marks each day with her dragon to remind her that a child would never take her place. A child would only need special care for a few Turns, but a dragon was part of her rider forever.

"Who takes care of Tomella when you're busy with Rineth? T'mos?" asked Angalyn.

Pricella began to understand the girl's concern. Yes, T'mos usually helped with Tomella, but sometimes he had other duties when Rineth needed attention.

"There are lots of women at Benden Weyr who love to help with babies. All I have to do is carry her to the Lower Caverns and we're surrounded with women who want to hold her and offer to take care of her for awhile. And when she's a few months old, I'll let one of those women foster her so I can return to full duty." Seeing Angalyn's shock over fostering a child so young, Pricella added, "I'll always be able to bring her here when I'm off duty, but she'll always have a loving home when I'm busy." She did not mention the possibility of her child needing a permanent foster home should she and Rineth die in Threadfall; these girls were still new weyrlings and she didn't want to frighten them. They would learn those realities of dragon-riding soon enough.

"Do you ever think about the other baby?"

Pricella blinked several times quickly. "Sometimes," was all she said. She didn't tell the girl however how she had cried herself to sleep for months afterwards or how the mere sight of a baby still hurt. But that was done, and now she had Tomella to occupy her thoughts.

About the time little Tomella fell asleep, Nayrith and Mynth began to stir. Pricella asked Rineth to contact Quinteth. The girls thanked Pricella and T'mos, and walked closer to the ledge of the double weyr. Quinteth landed neatly, to the girls' delight, and L'terick helped them to quickly mount. The blue rider strapped the girls behind just before Quinteth stepped off the ledge. Cally squealed with delight at the sudden drop, and Angalyn laughed at her friend and the exhilarating – though frightening – experience.

Klamath had been the first of the Istan dragons to wake, so Mara was with him when Cally's high pitched squeal echoed around the bowl. She laughed and Klamath huffed as they both watched Quinteth's rapid descent to a spot barely a dragon's length away.

Mara turned at the sound of a moist sniff.

L'ret stood nearby – he had been observing other weyrlings bathing their young dragons. He smiled openly at the two laughing girls as L'terick helped them to the ground.

"She'll be all right, Weyrlingmaster," said Mara.

L'ret sniffed again as he schooled his expression back to 'weyrlingmaster gruff'. _If she keeps the child, it will be difficult for her and Nayrith._

_They'll both have plenty of help, sir._

_I'll hold you to that!_ L'ret glared at the big woman even as he smiled just slightly.

Mara grinned and nodded before joining the green weyrlings.

The Istan weyrlings discussed Angalyn's possible predicament with their dragons as they bathed and oiled them. Nayrith was fairly silent as her rider discussed all they had learned from Pricella and T'mos, until Angalyn repeated a slightly altered version of the young mother's declaration that a dragon/rider pairing was forever and far more special than a mother/child relationship. Nayrith asked who would feed and bathe and oil her if Angalyn were busy with a baby, and was overcome with relief when all the Istans, B'roghe, and even L'terick promised to help anytime she needed. Angalyn reminded Nayrith that she might not even be pregnant, and that they had another day or two to think about what to do if she was.

Angalyn was far more attentive during afternoon exercises, having had some of her concerns addressed so satisfactorily, and found it much easier to put off other concerns until free time. Still being on light duty, she was not allowed to help with further firestone preparations, but was allowed to help the healers set up their outside stations.

Riders from all wings joined together this day, as so many riders and/or dragons were still recuperating from the last Fall. Wings were combined, and all fought the short, easy Threadfall. There were few injuries and no fatalities this day, much to everyone's relief, and the newest dragons were easily distracted with watching their riders doing their various Fall chores.

Mara concentrated on firestone moving in the fastest line during the Fall, trying very hard to keep hurting dragons and riders out of her mind. Klamath surprised her though, by asking if they couldn't help a dragon whose rider was confused by a knock on the head. With permission, she left the line and they walked as quickly as Klamath could manage toward the young green dragon and her rider.

Both tried to sooth the almost full-grown green – though Klamath mostly listened – and then Mara went to speak to the healers as Klamath stood near the green's head, repeating Mara's reassurances and occasionally licking her face. The rider, a young man only recently assigned to a fighting wing, and now babbling something about the slippery rocks in the river, had suffered a minor concussion and some cuts and bruises on one shoulder when he became distracted during a firestone transfer. Brown weyrling and little brown relayed everything the healer said to the green, Mara questioning the healer when needed. The rider had been treated with numbweed, but would not be given any fellis, or allowed to sleep, until his senses returned. The healer was quite certain the green rider would recover completely, and grinned when the green's eyes showed far less distress.

When the green rider finally recognized and began speaking with his worried green, Mara and Klamath returned to the southern end of the bowl.

_I'm very proud of you, Klamath._

_I'm proud of you, Mara. No one else can do that, can they?_

_Anyone can help calm a scared dragon. You were very helpful._

_But you can _speak_ to her, and _hear_ her rider. Can other humans do that?_

_Anyone can speak to a dragon, Klamath._

_Not without moving their mouth. And they can't hear other human's thoughts, can they?_

Mara stopped walking and turned to Klamath. _I don't think so._

_Mynth says her rider reads people's faces and bodies to know what they're thinking. And Dandreth says his rider reads their eyes._

Mara dropped to a crouch and looked with worry at her little brown. _Klamath, very few people know that I can hear thoughts. And our weyrleaders asked me to keep it a secret. Can you keep it a secret too, love?_

_I only asked how humans know what others are thinking. How do you keep such a big secret?_

_It can be hard sometimes._ Brown and rider searched each other's eyes and minds. Klamath, being in nearly constant contact with all the other dragons, would have considerably more trouble keeping such a big secret. _Maybe you could just not think about it?_

_I can keep it with our other secrets . . . hidden._

Mara worried about such a young dragon keeping any secrets, but tried to hide that worry.

_Other dragons keep secrets, too. Duranth showed me how._

_Do dragons keep secrets from their riders?_

_No . . . not usually. Not as much as riders keep secrets from dragons._ The little brown tilted his head, as if trying to gain a different perspective. _Why do you try to hide worry?_

'Oh, caught again' thought Mara. _Maybe because I'm just human, Klamath. Human women try to protect young people, and I guess I'm trying to protect you. But it isn't working, is it?_

Klamath huffed once. _Dragons share everything. Maybe we should both share worries; we could help each other._

_I will try very hard, my smart Klamath, to not hide anything from you. All right?_

Klamath's eyes and entire body stature changed slightly into what his rider would soon recognize as his mischievous mood. _Why does Normond's rider make you feel so funny? You seem to like it._

Mara smiled at her devious little brown. _That, my love, is something I will continue to hide until our weyrlingmaster thinks you are old enough to understand._

The brown drooped in defeat. _Can I make you feel like that?_

Mara lost her balance and fell backwards, landing awkwardly on the sandy ground. _Umm, no, dear. But you already make me feel far more wonderful than anyone else ever could._

Klamath stepped between her splayed legs and poked her belly. _But not like Normond's rider._

Laughing, Mara caught her brown's head between her hands and raised it to her eye level. _That's a human thing, Klamath. But the dragon/human thing is sooo much better!_

_Is it?_

_Yes, it is!_

_Then why do you think about Normond's rider?_

_Because he was the first to ever make me feel so wonderful. But, you are the second and WE are forever._

Klamath's mischievous mood returned. _Do I have to wait forever to eat again?_

Mara answered as she rolled to hands and knees in preparation of standing. _No, my love, you do not! Should we get back to work, then?_

_Eating's not . . . Yeah, let's get back to work._

Klamath finished eating and had just fallen asleep among the other Istan dragons when Lessa and Ramoth flew the final pass through the bowl signaling the end of this day's Fall, at least for Benden Weyr. Evening meal was held off until half a candle-mark after the end of Fall, allowing returning wing riders to care for their dragons and clean up a bit before eating.

The Istans sat watching their dozing dragons. Mara sat with legs outstretched, Cally's head resting on one thigh. D'don sat next to Cally, swaying and occasionally jerking himself awake. Both weyrlings had been assigned to the slowest firestone line and both were more worn out than Mara had yet seen. Angalyn, though, nearly bounced as she told everything she had seen and done while helping the healers, Nayrith watching from a nearby wall with other grounded or weyrling dragons whose riders also helped the healers.

B'roghe approached, grinning and shaking his head. He, like a good number of weyrlings, was covered in firestone dust, making his white teeth stand out even more on his now streaky black face.

"We need to clean up before meal time." He removed his boots and then D'don's and Cally's. "The pools are crowded, but most of the dragons seem to have gone to Benden Lake." He helped wobbly D'don to his feet and scooped Cally into his arms. "A quick dunk in the Weyr lake should help." He watched as the brown weyrling pulled off her boots, rolled and slowly rose, and grimaced at the accompanying pops and snaps. "That sounds painful."

Mara grinned at the handsome young man, embarrassed. "Only as long as the pops last. Then it just aches until I get moving." Once standing, she held D'don's arm to keep him from falling, while Angalyn supported his other side.

"Mmm." B'roghe, his ever assessing mind working, just nodded as they walked into the lake. "Will it get better with time?"

"Oh, I hope so!"

Cally woke as soon as B'roghe lowered her into the sun-warmed, but still slightly chilly – compared to the bathing pools – water. Invigorated by her short nap, she quickly began teasing D'don until he, not quite fully awake, slapped her hands away from removing his tunic. The shock of slapping a friend woke him more quickly than ice water might have. He apologized profusely as the girl giggled at him.

Angalyn, standing on the shore, not wanting to get her bandages wet, laughed at the antics in the lake, hoping she would be able to join them very soon.

With faces, hands and hair as clean as possible without the use of cleaning sands, the boys removed their tunics and began flapping them through the water. Mara and Cally flapped their tunics while still wearing them, with some playful help from the boys.

As they walked back to shore, Cally and then D'don began spinning, supposedly to remove excess water from their clothing, but effectively showering Angalyn. A loud throat clearing stopped the play, but not Cally's giggles as L'ret approached the drenched weyrlings, a scowl on his face, but humor in his eyes.

All the weyrlings faced the weyrlingmaster and acknowledged his presence not quite in unison. "Weyrlingmaster."

L'ret fought a grin – he truly loved proper discipline from his charges – but continued scowling. "Evening meal in a quarter candle-mark." He squinted at two bare chests and pools of water soaking the sand near bare feet. "Be ready. Mara, my office." After a satisfying 'yes, sir', he turned abruptly and walked toward the barracks.

Mara shrugged at her now somewhat worried friends before retrieving her boots and hurrying to catch up to the weyrlingmaster. Inside, she was directed to obtain two drying cloths from the pool area with a grumpy 'I don't want water all over my floor'. In the office, she was directed to stand on one of the cloths while using the other to sponge her clothing dry.

L'ret had trouble watching the woman so stood near the window watching the activities outside. "Duranth informed me that you and Klamath had an interesting conversation on the way back from the healer's stations."

"Yes, sir." Not sure where this was leading, Mara chose to forgo any additional comments.

"He's concerned that he was unable to hear a part of that discussion."

"Which . . ." Mara rolled her eyes at such a dumb question. "Um, what did he hear, sir?"

"He heard questions about knowing people's thoughts, and something about a secret, and then nothing until Klamath asked to be fed."

Mara replayed their discussion in her mind and tried to explain. "I told him the weyrleaders want this kept secret, and he said that Duranth taught him how to keep secrets hidden, and then . . ."

"So he has the ability to communicate privately with you."

"Is that bad, sir?"

Now L'ret turned, smiling and chuckling lightly. "No, Mara, that is not bad. But it is highly unusual in a dragon so young."

"How unusual?"

"Golds tend to learn the quickest, usually within their first month; bronzes usually within their first two months; browns within three months; and so on. There are exceptions, of course, but I've never seen a non-gold learn this in less than a month. Some never learn to talk privately and some never learn to keep secrets. But for Klamath to learn this in his first five days?" L'ret shook his head with disbelief. "This is a new record, Mara!"

Mara wasn't sure if she should be proud of her brown's quick learning, or worried at his ability to keep secrets so young. "Could this be a problem?"

L'ret's exuberance lessened considerably as he took a deep breath. "To be honest, Mara, it could be. You know we monitor the little ones to detect problems with their bonding or their emotional state. We don't spy on the weyrlings, though sometimes we do learn about poorly planned adventures." The big man rolled his eyes at that reminder. "The bond between you and Klamath is exceptional, Mara, among the best I've ever seen. But, we still have concerns about his emotional development. We'll need you to be open and honest about any problems you might suspect."

"Like jealousy?"

L'ret laughed as he explained that jealousy was entirely normal in young dragons. They then discussed in detail – which caused more laughter from the man – what else was discussed privately between brown and rider. L'ret commended Mara on her handling of Klamath's questions.

"Your answers to his questions are all so simple and honest. They're so . . . dragon-like!"

"Must be from Turns of listening to dragons."

"Quite likely." He didn't say how he envied her ability in that area, but did slap her arm as he made for the door. "Clean up that mess, weyrling, and let's eat."

"Yes, sir!"

Evening meal was a joyous affair filled with relief after such a short and uneventful Fall. Debriefing would be held after the meal as there had been very few situations to merit any immediate discussion. A few riders were missing though, as were their wingleaders or wingseconds; problems with behavior or emotional responses were dealt with immediately at Benden Weyr and never allowed to ferment. F'lar did inform the entire Weyr that Telgar Weyr was using this Fall as a practice session for second Turn weyrlings as most of it was falling over the Snowy Wastes and only the tail end would fall on usable land.

After evening chores – the Istans were designated to working in the kitchen – and several candle-marks of structured play with dragonets who were needing far less sleep, the Istans finally retired to their small weyr. As the dragons fell asleep, Angalyn was given the opportunity to select the evening's discussion topic. She chose to continue studying L'ret's class transcripts; they still had some catching up to do, she said.

B'roghe joined the Istans, and after learning the evening's topic, ran back to the weyrling barracks to fetch the others interested in 'catching up'.

The first hide had covered the human/dragon bond. The second, read the previous evening, and third covered dragonrider responsibilities and was read through entirely this evening and discussed in great depth. When Angalyn, seeming hungry for more information – or perhaps distraction – asked if they could read the fourth lesson, B'roghe hesitated.

"May I see the fourth hide?" asked the bronze rider. He glanced at the title and pursed his lips before handing it back to Mara. "You read the title."

Mara read the title silently and frowned. To B'roghe, she asked, "Did Weyrlingmaster L'ret make even the youngest weyrlings sit through this class?"

"No," grinned B'roghe, "he had them adjourn to another classroom, where they were told," now he grimaced at each of the young Istan weyrlings, and spoke with uncharacteristic gruffness, "if you even think about kissing a boy or a girl, you will speak to me first." He returned to his own voice. "Or talk to Mara or me or any of the weyrlingmaster's assistants. There are things you need to know about how . . . kissing might affect your dragons."

Cally and D'don made disgusted faces at each other as the visiting weyrlings grinned, knowing now which class this hide covered. Angalyn, though, had gone a bit pale.

Acting braver than she felt, the girl just had to know. "What's the title of this lesson?"

Mara paused only slightly before answering. "The Need for Sexual Restraint."

Angalyn looked at B'roghe, knowing he had sat through the class. "How can . . . kissing affect our dragons?" She knew full well that mere kissing was not the subject of the class, but was trying to be considerate of her younger friends.

B'roghe took a breath to speak, but turned to Mara; he wasn't sure how to explain.

Mara nodded. "You know that your dragons feel everything you do. Kissing . . . can frighten young dragons. They're not old enough to understand the feelings that can happen when we . . . kiss someone. So we need to wait until our weyrlingmaster tells us they're old enough before we even try . . . kissing."

Angalyn immediately wondered what having a baby would do to her little Nayrith, but couldn't – or wouldn't – ask in front of her friends.

Mara heard her thoughts but also saw the growing worry in her eyes. "We can talk about it more later, if you'd like. Maybe on the way to the healers? You haven't had your bandages checked this evening, have you?"

Angalyn nodded at the suggestions and shook her head at the last question. As the Benden weyrlings left, and after a bit of soothing bruised feelings when Cally was asked to stay behind, Mara and Angalyn walked to the Healers' Cavern.

Angalyn was silent on the long walk and didn't ask her first questions until Loralin was halfway through checking her wounds. Loralin did some quick calculations based on what the girl had told her earlier, and determined that Nayrith would be at least six months old before the baby – if it even existed – would arrive. After informing Angalyn that her wounds were healed enough to go without bandages and that she was free to bath but not to scrub too hard yet, the healer called in a dragon healer.

The young man gave no hint that Loralin's hypothetical questions had anything to do with either of the two weyrlings in the small exam room, but did state that green dragons usually became sexually mature at about six months of age, and that if explained properly, experiencing childbirth with her rider should not be at all damaging. And Ramoth would be clutching fairly soon, so all the dragons would experience the dragon equivalent of childbirth – laying eggs.

After the dragon healer left the room, Loralin quickly dispelled another of Angalyn's worries – her mother had repeatedly told her how painful childbirth had been. The healer informed the weyrlings that a very small dose of fellis would dull any discomfort to a level more easily managed by bonded dragons, and the queen dragons were very good about keeping green dragons calm and reassured anytime their riders gave birth.

Before allowing the weyrlings to leave, Loralin wrote a note for the weyrlingmaster. Angalyn was cleared for most weyrling duties, but was not to overexert herself and was not permitted to throw firestone until her bruised ribs were more completely healed.

After thanking the journeywoman, the girls began the long walk back to the weyr. Again, Angalyn was silent – until they reached the halfway point. She turned a full circle to be sure they were alone before asking, "What will having a baby do to our weyrling training?"

"I don't know, Angalyn," said Mara honestly. "We can ask Weyrlingmaster L'ret when we deliver that note. He knows about this, doesn't he?"

The girl sighed deeply. "He knows."

The weyrlingmaster was in his office, as evidenced by a light from the window, and offered both the weyrlings chairs away from the desk in a less formal seating area. He offered them both some tea – he had a huge pot of Manora's relaxing blend – and both gratefully accepted. After extolling the virtues of Manora's many special blends while the girls sampled this particular blend, he asked the purpose of their visit. He read the note from Loralin and expressed satisfaction. He questioned Angalyn on her prior physical conditioning and determined that she would run much as Mara did, walking if she became too tired or sore.

Seeing the girl had more on her mind, L'ret prompted with, "Is there anything else?"

Angalyn stammered a bit. "Yes, sir. If I am carrying a child, and if I decide to have the baby, what will happen to our training?"

"Ah, yes." L'ret smiled kindly. "We don't normally allow girls who might be pregnant to stand at a hatching, you know, but sometimes they slip through the testing. So, we do have some experience with this. You and Nayrith will continue training as long as you're able. And Nayrith will do all the expected exercises even if you can't. You will both learn all the proper flying techniques and formations, though you will probably not be allowed to fly on her until a month or more after the baby is born; that will be determined by the Healers. And there will be no going _between_ until you are able to fly with Nayrith. You may need to be put back a class, but that will depend on you; on how hard you work at learning what you will be unable to do for awhile."

"If I am pregnant, what do you think I should do, sir?"

L'ret huffed, almost like a dragon, and shook his head as he smiled at the girl. "That is _not_ for me to decide, Angalyn." He took a deep breath. "I have four daughters. Did you know that? If any of them ever finds themselves in your position, this is what I will tell them: Only you can decide if you should have this baby. But, no matter what you decide, I will support you in every way. That holds true for you as well, Angalyn. No matter what you decide, I will support and respect that decision. We'll all work out any problems that might arise. Understood?"

Tears fell as the girl nodded at the man. "Thank you, sir."

"Finish your tea," ordered L'ret. "If you have more questions, Angalyn, or need or want to talk, feel free to seek me out. Understood?"

Angalyn smiled for the first time since entering the office. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

"Good. Now," he grunted as he reapplied his weyrlingmaster's mask. "It's well past your bedtime, weyrlings." When Mara began gathering the used mugs, he grunted again. "Leave it. Off to bed with you! Now!"

Both weyrlings responded with "Yes, sir." Angalyn added, "Thank you, sir," as they left the weyrlingmaster's office.

In the Istan weyr, Cally and D'don were deep in sleep, both worn out from a physically exhausting day. After taking Mara's advice, Angalyn fell asleep quickly imagining flying over Pern on green Nayrith. Mara, however, wasn't quite ready to sleep, so joined Master Mekelroy at his table near the entrance to the weyr.

Bista peeped as Mara sat down at Mack's smiling invitation. She then waddled quite regally to Mara's side of the table and hopped onto her lap, where she curled into a tight ball.

"She thinks it's too cold at night here, and you, being bigger, have more heat to spare."

Mara grinned as she laid a hand over the tiny gold fire lizard, who purred in response. After several minutes adoring the little creature, Mara looked at the harper and caught him in a moment of undisguised reflection. "Will you be glad to leave, Master?"

Mack smiled, but not in his usual harper's way; this smile was sad. "Yes and no. I'm anxious to return to my work, but I now see the wisdom of spending time here after such a tragedy." When the woman only studied him with curiosity, he continued. "I've learned a great deal about dragons and their riders, and I've come to realize that my impulsive – perhaps instinctive – response at Ista Weyr was the right choice for me. I'll always regret the loss of little Reaneth, but now I can sleep with my choice."

"You'll be all right then?"

Now the harper smile blossomed. "I'll be fine. I do have Bista after all, most of the time."

Mara stroked the lizard on her lap as she fought tears. The last two sevendays had been the most frightening and exciting and wonderful days of her life, but, "We'll miss you, Mack."

"Oh, I'll be back, rest assured . . . though probably not for any Hatchings." He reached under the table and pulled up a small carisak, from which he removed two beautiful hidebound books. He laid one on the table such that Mara could read the title.

"The Charter of Pern!"

That big smile was well worth the small price he paid for these books. He pushed it closer to the thrilled woman. "It's yours. A thank you for all your help."

Mara opened the cover and found a hand written note:

'To Mara: For your perusal and edification. Mack.'

"Perusal?"

Those hungry eyes delighted the harper. He pushed the other book toward her. "Look it up."

Mara mouthed the title with confusion. Understanding brightened her entire face. "Dictionary? T'men was going to show me this before we left for Ista." She leafed through the pages. "How does it work?"

Master Mack grinned at the big woman's excitement and suddenly remembered why he had so loved teaching. Granted, not all students were as enthusiastic, but just one in each class made the entire process enjoyable. He patiently showed her how to use the dictionary, and tested her with various words she had likely never heard.

When the weyrling started yawning – which looked almost painful when combined with such a big smile – the harper shooed her off to bed.

Holding up the dictionary, Mara asked, "Does this need to go back to the library?"

"Open the front cover."

Another handwritten note: 'To Mara: Every harper needs a good dictionary. Mack'.

"But, I'm not a harper."

"Not all harpers wear knots, Mara. You have the potential. Think about it . . . for After if nothing else."

* * *

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	25. A Major Decision Made More Difficult

It's been awhile since I've mentioned this: _Dragonriders of Pern_ is still not mine! SHARDS!

* * *

Mara woke early, before any of her weyrmates, and ran and walked her morning lap before any of them woke. As she waited for them to stir, she began reading the dictionary Master Mekelroy had gifted her. She made it only partway through the first page of the 'guide to pronunciation' before Cally's giggle disturbed her.

Cally was rather amused by her friend's deep concentration accompanied by silent movement of her lips. "What are you reading?"

"A dictionary."

"Why?"

"So I can learn more words."

"Why?"

"So I can . . . say what I'm thinking."

"You do fine," offered Cally.

"But, so many times I don't have the words to . . . explain things right."

"Maybe you just need practice."

"I need to learn and use more words. Do you know what 'perusal' means?" When the girl shook her head, Mara grinned. "Let me show you how this works."

Angalyn woke next. As she munched on more salty dried bread and sipped tea, she listened as Mara and Cally looked up various words, some at her suggestion. After awhile, she finally asked, "How does the dictionary define 'pregnancy'?"

As they looked it up, D'don joined the group. He wasn't quite as fascinated with Mara's book of words, but finally chimed in with a question of his own. "What is 'prepubescent'?"

"Pre . . . pu . . . what?" asked Mara. Both green riders looked confused as well.

Sheepishly, D'don explained where he had heard the word. "The boys at Ista Weyr called me a prepubescent punk."

"How is it spelled?" Mara did have an idea, of course, but was hoping to get D'don involved in their new game.

The young blue weyrling shrugged. "P-r-e-p. I don't know."

A gruff voice from outside the wall spoke. "P-r-e-p-u-b-e-s-c-e-n-t." L'ret walked into the girls' side of the weyr. "'Prepubescent' means that you are not fully grown yet, much like your dragons. Now, if you wish to continue to grow, I suggest you GET TO WORK!"

The weyrlingmaster rolled his eyes as Cally giggled a 'yes, sir' before skipping around the wall and down the hall to the dressing room. Angalyn was little better; she smiled her 'yes, sir' and merely walked the same route. D'don had snapped to attention for his 'yes, sir' and then climbed over the dragons' couch to reach his area. Mara was the most contrite, looking quite abashed. She stood slowly, popping and cracking all the way up with the dictionary clutched to her chest.

"You should never sit so soon after running. The youngsters can do it, but not us older folk."

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry I kept them from their work, sir."

"Never apologize for learning, Weyrling. But in the future, hold your extra learning for free time."

"Yes, sir."

L'ret watched as she almost ceremoniously placed the book under the head of her mattress. Was that another book she placed it near? He fretted a bit about her now depressed mood. When she faced him again, he asked, "Do you know what 'exemplary' means?"

"No, sir."

The weyrlingmaster pointed at the head of her cot. "Look it up." He watched patiently as she retrieved her dictionary even as she sounded out the word, found it, and read the meaning aloud. When she looked at him in confusion, he smiled. "You are an exemplary student, Mara. Keep up the good work, and don't fret over minor mistakes."

"Yes, sir." Stunned, Mara watched the big man follow D'don's path. "Thank you, sir." She put her dictionary back under her mattress and – trying to ignore the rather loud whispering in D'don's area – decided to see what the giggling and laughing girls were up to.

As she approached the hallway opening to D'don's room, there was no ignoring L'ret's humorous order.

"Scratch that itch, boy! Just do it in private, or you will definitely invite more teasing. And if it bothers Gredarth, stop!"

Mara bit her lips to keep from giggling, and almost ran past the opening.

oOoOoOo

After bathing and oiling, the youngest dragons – being deemed old enough to begin concentration exercises – were included in an outdoor lecture session. L'ret read the entire, though surprisingly short, _Charter of Pern_. Weyr Journeyman Harper Selikar, with help from Master Harper Mekelroy, then answered questions and explained the rather simple intricacies of the document.

All three men were rather disturbed by the fact that a full quarter of this class had either never heard of the _Charter of Pern_ or had been told that it was a worthless relic no longer pertinent to 'modern' Pern.

Mekelroy took mental notes on the 'Does that mean . . .' questions. Of particular interest – and the source of considerable anger from all three men – was the question of a girl of probably sixteen Turns. She asked if a particular paragraph meant that her Lord did _not_ have the right to remove girls from their homes to be placed with unmarried men 'for training'. Her phrasing and demeanor indicated she certainly believed her Lord to be in the wrong.

The Master Harper fought a cringe, and maintained his harper smile as he asked at what age the Lord Holder removed young girls. When told that this particular Lord – who remained unnamed – claimed that twelve was the ideal age to begin proper training, he did cringe, but recovered quickly before explaining that no child should be removed from their home without their parents' or guardians' express permission, and at the age of sixteen the child had the right to decide their own future.

Mekelroy made note of the questions and Selikar and L'ret made note of the questioners. Later, they would combine their notes to learn which Holds were in most need of Harper interventions. Mekelroy knew of quite a few holds – mostly small, but some major – where Harpers had been placed – sometimes covertly – to teach lower ranking people their rights according to the _Charter_, and hoped the list would not grow this day. Small, pocket-sized copies of the _Charter_ were helping to spread the word, but there were still quite a few hidebound pockets of Pern where people even frowned upon reading. The reemergence of printing presses, mused Mekelroy, would not diminish Harper Hall's duties anytime in the foreseeable future.

As the young dragons reached the end of their concentration limits and began to feel unfairly starved, they were commended for their patience and the class was dismissed. There would be many more sessions on the _Charter of Pern_ during weyrling training and L'ret was pleased with how much they had covered this day. The young dragons would be included in more and more lecture and discussion sessions as time progressed, so they too would be exposed to their riders' new knowledge. Even if they wouldn't remember the details, they would have thought about them in their past and would more easily recall parts of those memories until they became nearly as fully engrained as with their riders.

After their dragons were fed and comfortably bedded down, the weyrlings were allowed to eat. More classwork was followed by marching exercises, morning chore duties, and finally a bit of free time until dragons woke again.

Mara, sitting near the Istan dragons with her dictionary, felt guilty that the other Istans were using their free time to run their morning lap, but was relieved of that guilt when she noticed Angalyn smiling while Cally bounced along beside, apparently sharing something quite amusing.

D'don was much further along in his lap, running with a group of weyrlings his age. As she watched them, D'don took a sudden tumble and rolled several times. Mara quickly opened and focused her _hearing_ to find out if he was all right.

"What happened?" asked L'ret from just behind her. He motioned for her to stay seated.

"Someone tripped and pushed D'don, but the other boys are helping him . . . and standing up for him!" Mara was quite pleased by this turn.

"Who tripped him?" L'ret's tone indicated he'd already guessed.

"B'rand, sir."

"Shards. I'll have yet another talk with that boy. Just don't understand where all that anger's coming from."

"Should I listen closer?"

"No! I don't like how it affected you earlier. We'll figure it out. Is D'don all right?"

Mara _listened_ to D'don for a few moments and smiled. "He's worried about all the blood on his arms; doesn't want Angalyn to see it. And numbweed should keep Gredarth from worrying."

"Keeping a level head, is he?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." With that declaration, the weyrlingmaster moved on.

oOoOo

Angalyn and Cally were both upset that D'don had been hurt and pushed him mercilessly for the name of his assailant.

"It's being taken care of," was all D'don would say though, even when they tried to get confirmation of their guess – B'rand. "It's being taken care of," repeated the young blue rider, and finally clamped his lips shut refusing to say anymore.

Cally was pleased to have another patient, still having plenty of bandages and numbweed in her healer's carisak for just that purpose. D'don had stopped at the Healers' Cavern for his initial treatment, but Cally was entrusted to provide continuing treatment, much to her delight.

Some of the weyrlings worried about their dragons sleeping so long, until L'ret reminded them they had stayed awake far longer this day than in the past. They began waking just before midday meal, requiring quite a few weyrlings to eat later than normal. With the dragons awake, bathed and oiled yet again, weyrlings took their meals in shifts, some staying near the lake to keep little ones occupied with various games designed to improve mobility, agility and strength.

The Istan dragons were the last to wake. Being three days younger and trying so hard to keep up with their elders had thoroughly worn them out. Mara volunteered to stay with the dragons, declaring that she had more energy – at which point she jiggled her still large waist – than any of her weyrmates, and could probably go a full day without food, not that she would ever volunteer for that, she quickly confessed.

As her weyrmates ran and walked at Angalyn's best pace, Mara and Klamath led their clutch-mates toward the lines of playing dragons. B'roghe and Dandreth – and one of L'ret's assistants – led one line over, around and through various obstacles at the southern end of the bowl. Little dragons flapped their wings whenever Dandreth did, and stopped and stood in various positions to stretch little muscles. As a bit of fatigue began to show, all the little dragons were freed to play independently.

Mara grinned as her Klamath played chase with another brown and a blue. Gredarth played a less strenuous version of follow the green, while Nayrith and Mynth sat rather quietly with a group of blues and greens. Duranth and several other dragons stood watch over all the play and rumbled gentle warnings if anything might prove dangerous.

All the dragons seemed fully engaged in the draconic play session. One little bronze, though, sat alone in knee deep water. Several little dragons tried unsuccessfully to include him in their play. Mara noticed that little Tagamarth wouldn't even speak with any of them, until Dandreth walked into the lake and sat next to him. _Listening_ to theirconversation, Mara's grin faded quickly; young Tagamarth sounded so very lonely. An arm pressed against hers broke her concentration.

"Dandreth says that Tagamarth hurts, but he won't say where," said B'roghe quietly. "Would you mind checking him?"

"Not at all." Mara hesitated, then, "Where's B'rand?"

"Eating."

"Good."

Bronze and brown weyrlings waded into the lake. Tagamarth allowed B'roghe to pet his head and neck but shied away from Mara. Both B'roghe's and Dandreth's reassurances were required before the little bronze would allow the woman to touch him.

Mara knelt at Tagamarth's side, making every effort to prevent his feeling trapped in any way. "I won't hurt you Tagamarth." She began stroking his neck. "What's bothering you this day?"

_My rider says you're dangerous . . . that you kill bronze dragons._

The brown weyrling wasn't the only one shocked by the bronze's statement. Duranth and several other dragons grunted disapproval, while Dandreth looked a bit bewildered.

"I've never killed any dragons, Tagamarth, or anyone or anything." She resumed her gentle petting until the bronze relaxed and nearly melted from the pleasure. "Now, where do you hurt, Tagamarth?" She stopped one hand and pressed it gently to his chest. "Oh, ouch. No wonder you don't feel like playing."

"What's wrong?" asked B'roghe.

"He hasn't been cleaned properly. B'rand should know better."

"I'll find some cleaning sand."

"No sand, just some cloths." Mara regretted her shortness and grimaced an apology to the bronze weyrling. "And some oil, please?"

B'roghe nodded, held a brief, silent conversation with Dandreth, and ran to the storage room.

"Let's go deeper into the water, Tagamarth." Mara led the little bronze further out until his back was covered with the sun warmed water, Dandreth on his other side.

B'roghe returned, sat a bucket of oil on the sand, and walked toward the trio with two cleaning cloths.

"Can you leave one on shore, please?"

The bronze weyrling threw one of the cloths to the sand near the bucket. "Why no cleaning sand?"

Mara raised one eyebrow as she took the other cloth from the young man. "Do you use sand on your genitals?" His shudder was answer enough. "Neither do I." To Tagamarth, she said, "Stand tall, dear, and spread you legs, please."

_My rider says if I want to be clean . . . there . . . he needs to use lots of sand._

The water rippled as bronze and bronze weyrling both shuddered uncontrollably. Several disapproving grumbles were heard from elsewhere.

Mara gently cleaned the area, using her fingers to locate sand hidden in folds of swollen hide. "Sand should never be used on such tender hide, Tagamarth. Perhaps you should remind your rider next time he bathes you."

_He knows how to take care of me._ Despite the statement, Tagamarth did not sound very convincing.

"So he says, huh? Well, we all have a lot more to learn. That's why we're in weyrling training."

When Mara removed a particularly bothersome bunch of sand, poor Tagamarth first gasped and then sighed with relief as he melted into B'roghe's soothing caresses.

After running her fingers one more time through the folds of hide, Mara decided against using a cloth – it was far too rough for such a tender, swollen area – and patted the bronze's flanks. With far more cheer than she felt, she said, "Let's get you dried off and see if you need oil."

Waiting patiently on shore sat four more little dragons. Gredarth, Mynth, Nayrith and Klamath sat just past the bucket of oil, all looking quite worried. Tagamarth hesitated at the sight.

_I'm not supposed to talk to or play with anyone but bronzes._

"Is that right?" asked Mara not quite casually.

_They're beneath us._ Again, the bronze sounded very unconvinced.

"Is that how you feel, Tagamarth?"

_No, but . . ._

Dandreth interrupted. _These are my friends, and we all talk and play. All dragons talk and play with each other. You can be our friend too!_

B'roghe smiled with pride at his little bronze. To Tagamarth, he said, "Come along, Tagamarth. Meet our friends."

While the dragons talked, Mara thoroughly dried Tagamarth's genital area, and then asked him to lie down. With help from B'roghe to protect fragile wings, they rolled the bronze nearly to his back so Mara could have a closer look at the swollen area.

Gredarth and Dandreth lay down facing Tagamarth's twisted head. Mynth and Nayrith lay on either side of his neck nuzzling his shoulders and licking his neck. Tagamarth cooed in delight at all the attention. Klamath stood near his rider, observing.

"Definitely needs oil," said Mara to no one in particular, smiling at the dragons' cheerful chatter. She looked up at B'roghe. "Do you have any numbweed?"

"I've got some." K'remin, who had come to see what was going on, reached into his belt pouch and handed a small jar to Mara. "Oil first, though."

Mara used fingers again to oil the swollen area; the oil rag was just too rough. Finished, she started wiping her hand on her tunic.

"Keep your hand oiled or your fingers will go numb."

"But I'll get oil in your numbweed."

"Won't hurt it. Just dilutes it a bit. Looks like you'll need the whole jar anyway."

Mara applied a generous coating of numbweed to the distracted bronze. As she finished, Tagamarth curled his neck toward his belly. Blue-green eyes surveyed the brown weyrling and the area she had just treated.

_Thank you._

"You're very welcome, Tagamarth."

B'roghe and Mara helped the little bronze roll back to his feet. His eyes swirled calmly with blue and green, until he turned to face north; then his eyes spun faster and became suffused with yellow.

Weyrlingmaster L'ret marched toward them with B'rand in his iron grip, held just below his armpit. Both looked furious, though for different reasons.

"I told you . . ." B'rand's rant was jerked to silence.

"What happened here?" growled L'ret.

Mara looked around and found both B'roghe and K'remin looking at her. So, she faced the weyrlingmaster. "It seems that B'rand has been using sand to clean Tagamarth's genital area, sir."

The man shuddered, though he already knew through Duranth what had been discovered. "And what did you do about it?"

"We . . ." A loud throat clearing from B'roghe surprised Mara. "I . . . cleaned the area, dried it, oiled it good, and then put numbweed on, sir."

"Good. Tagamarth, do you feel better?"

The little bronze raised and lowered his head.

"Good. You come with us, please. I'm very angry with your rider right now, but I want you to see that I will not hurt him. K'remin, with me. Weyrlings, back to work."

With those orders, L'ret turned back toward the north end of the Weyr, B'rand in tow.

The errant bronze weyrling tried to protest. "She had no right . . ."

"Shut up, boy. K'remin, you take him before I hit him."

As bronze and brown weyrling, along with five little dragons watched, Ramoth dropped from her ledge to land outside the Living Cavern. Lessa mounted and both flew to a spot halfway down the eastern wall. Mnementh and F'lar followed close behind. Gold and bronze faced each other, and as the weyrlingmaster, his assistant, and a weyrling and his dragon joined the weyrleaders, they spread their wings to create a private area.

Mara turned to B'roghe, who shook his head in disbelief.

"I wish I knew how to help that young man," said B'roghe. "He's just so angry!"

"And scared," added Mara.

B'roghe was even more perplexed. How could anyone with a dragon be frightened of anything? A dragon was the ultimate security; constant companionship, immeasurable strength, intelligence, and unconditional love.

"Back to work?" asked Mara. They had helped Tagamarth and there was no more to do for B'rand unless he was willing to accept help. And they had five little dragons looking up at them, waiting patiently for their next game.

B'roghe studied the big woman at his side. Was she really able to dismiss this so easily? Was she really that simple? Or did she simply choose to put it aside for later consideration. When he followed her smiling gaze, he had the answer. The problem of B'rand would have to wait; five little dragons looked up at him full of hope. "How about 'follow the brown'?"

oOoOo

Cally, D'don, and Angalyn returned shortly thereafter, and quickly changed the game to 'follow the green'.

Mara and B'roghe ran to the Dining Cavern – and walked some – for their midday meal. They talked a bit about what little they knew about B'rand, but not too much; their dragons were listening in after all. So they concentrated on eating quickly. After thanking the kitchen staff and scrubbing a few tables each, they left the Cavern and were only mildly surprised to see Ramoth and Mnementh still providing a privacy screen for the discussion along the eastern wall. Weyrfolk took special care to avoid walking within two dragon lengths of the huge pair and made every effort to _not_ seem too interested in the spontaneous meeting.

Bronze and brown weyrlings soon found the Istan dragons – and their riders – had an esteemed visitor. Masterhealer Oldive was on his knees, sitting back on his feet talking to the little creatures, admiring their fast growth and complimenting them on their impressive strength and endurance. Loralin stood nearby holding the arm of Benden Weyr's frantic Master Healer Tarminas. The Istan weyrlings, standing with Master Mack, answered the Masterhealer's questions, translating for their life-mates.

As the older weyrlings approached, Oldive spoke to the little brown. "I see her, Klamath. Will you ask her to help me stand, please?" After a moment he responded to a question. "No, I'm quite all right, young Klamath; just feeling my age." Even as Mara helped him to his feet, he spoke to the little brown. "Well, my little friend, if you'll allow me to speak with her, I just might be able to fix that."

"Inquisitive little fellow," he finally said to Mara, his eyes sparkling and his face shining with joy. "My very dear, sorely missed friend, Robinton, once told me how thrilling it was to hear a dragon in one's mind. Now I finally understand his elation over the mere memory!"

Mara knew Robinton had been the Masterharper of Pern. She had heard when all the dragons talked him into staying with them, and she had heard them mourn his death. He must have been a remarkable man, but then, so was Masterhealer Oldive, and here he stood, mourning his friend and rejoicing over what should have been a shared experience.

After a few pleasantries, Oldive explained that he had come to share news with Angalyn. The girl, somewhat reluctant, asked if Mara could come along. Cally was easily soothed by mention of Mara's age; she might know what questions should be asked.

The healers, two weyrlings and their dragons – at Oldive's invitation, since he'd been informed they wouldn't need to eat for awhile – all walked to the Healers' Cavern at the dragons' best comfortable pace. Tarminas seemed worried about his Master walking so far, but was quickly quieted by his Master's assertion that exercise was always a good thing. Besides, he quipped, he had two lovely escorts, one on each arm, to keep him from tripping over his own feet.

In a small meeting room, with dragons at their riders' sides, Angalyn was informed that she was indeed very pregnant. There was a bit of an abnormality discovered with further testing of her blood, though.

"The Ancients called it diabetes. Your blood contains only slightly higher than normal glucose concentration. At this level, this condition is very manageable with nothing more than watching what you eat and getting proper exercise. It could, however, make having a baby a bit more difficult."

Angalyn was stunned to the point of merely staring at the Masterhealer.

Mara tried to help. "What should she watch for when she's eating?"

Oldive started listing some of the foods that could increase glucose levels in the blood, and should therefore be avoided. As Angalyn still only stared at him, he began a simple explanation of what caused diabetes, and then some of the symptoms that the girl might have experienced.

Angalyn nodded at several of the symptoms. She had experienced several of them, but mostly when she'd eaten anything sweetened, or had been forced to go long periods between meals, or was unable to get any exercise.

As the girl wasn't talking yet, or asking questions, Oldive explained how the Ancients had special little machines that could test blood sugar anytime of the day or night, but it was also possible to monitor one's sugar levels by simply, carefully observing how one felt at any given time. This monologue was interrupted suddenly.

"Could that be what killed my mother?" asked Angalyn timidly.

They discussed her symptoms and reactions to various foods, and her final contraction of a common fever on Ista. Oldive concluded that she probably had the same condition. Seeing fear in the girl's eyes, he quickly pointed out that knowing the problem was the first step in lifelong management, and proper management could ensure a very long, healthy and happy life.

Relieved beyond words, Angalyn sighed deeply before hugging Nayrith. "We'll be all right, Nayrith."

"Indeed you will. Most especially with help from your little friend. There _are_ other dragonriders with this condition and dragons are very good about telling their rider or someone else when something doesn't feel right."

"There are?" Angalyn immediately blushed at having questioned the Masterhealer's statement.

Oldive took no offense though, recognizing the girl's relief at not being alone in her predicament. "There are indeed! With your permission, weyrling, and of course your weyrlingmaster's, I will attempt to arrange some visits. Until then, I've had these guidelines printed for your perusal." He pulled a small stack of paper from his satchel, leafed through it, and handed half the stack to Angalyn and the other half to Loralin. "I'll also speak with your weyrlingmaster, the weyrleaders, and most important, Headwoman Manora. You should keep certain foods close to hand constantly, cannot be allowed to skip meals, and may even need extra food at odd times of the day."

He went on to explain that Loralin – and of course Tarminas – would assist her with learning what she could and could not eat, and would monitor her condition at least daily. He handed her a hide-bound book of blank pages and asked her to record her physical reactions to everything: food, exercise, stressors, everything. And he reminded her that her dear little Nayrith's input would be invaluable.

Eventually, Angalyn remembered the original purpose of this meeting. "How will this . . . diabetes . . . affect having a baby? I don't want to risk hurting Nayrith."

Oldive explained all the possible problems _if the condition were not well managed, _and listed the activities pregnancy would make more difficult. He also informed her that Healer Hall would provide Tarminas and Loralin special training on the subject of diabetes and in testing her blood when necessary, using equipment available in the surgery, and of course, he or other specialists would always be just a dragon-ride away.

The Master, seeing the girl's eyes lose focus as she spoke with her dragon, droned on about the training Benden's healers would receive and all the Masters and Journeymen, and women, who were studying this and many other conditions they finally had names for, thanks to Aivas and the Ancients' excellent Records. When the girl's eyes refocused and she grimaced in confusion, he stopped his meaningless drivel. "Any questions?" he asked in poorly disguised innocence.

Angalyn smiled at his comic expression. "Not until I read all this." She held up her sheath of paper. "But, Nayrith and I would like to have this baby."

"Are you sure, Angalyn? Stopping this will be much more difficult and even dangerous in just a few sevendays."

"Do you think we should stop it?"

Oldive smiled compassionately. "Knowing now about your diabetes and knowing that you will try very hard to manage it properly – for Nayrith's sake if no other reason – I see no health related reasons to stop this pregnancy. But the decision is completely yours, young lady. _You_ will have to live with your decision for a very, very long time. No one – except Nayrith, of course – can even come close to understanding or appreciating your reasoning."

"My mother could never have a second baby. Could that have been due to the diabetes? Or could it have been something else?"

Oldive now had a good picture of the girl's reasoning, and struggled to give her hope for future pregnancies. Honesty won out though; Oldive abhorred lying to anyone, especially his patients. "Without a full examination and a lengthy discussion with your mother, there is simply no way to know for certain."

"Then, we'd like to have this baby, Master. It might be our only chance."

"Very well, young lady. We respect your decision," he pointedly looked at Tarminas, "don't we Master Healer Tarminas."

"Yes, of course, Master." Tarminas then smiled at Angalyn, with sadness as well as conviction. "We will do everything we can to make this as easy and comfortable as possible, Weyrling Angalyn."

"Thank you, Master and Masterhealer."

They all spoke for a while longer about her diet, exercise and herbal needs. Oldive finally asked Mara to contact the weyrleaders and weyrlingmaster through their dragons.

F'lar and Lessa, with Manora between them, entered the meeting room soon afterwards; they must have been waiting just outside.

As two little dragons were growing hungry and tired, Lessa suggested they all meet near the lake. As the other Istan dragons were also ready to eat, and their riders should be made aware of their weyrmate's special needs, they were invited to join the growing group. B'roghe, being a special friend of the Istans, asked to be included and was welcomed.

Angalyn was in awe of so many high ranking people, and rather embarrassed at so many people sharing in her problems, but hid it quite well, something Lessa admired greatly; the girl had good control over her emotions and her facial expressions.

After Oldive provided a brief, but detailed synopsis of Angalyn's condition and decision, L'ret teased the girl about her testing his training adjustment abilities. F'lar countered by teasing L'ret about needing to be tested constantly to maintain one's edge. Oldive teased – or perhaps taunted – by questioning dragonriders' ability to cope with new situations, which earned him – as he fully expected – derisive looks from full riders and weyrlings alike. Those looks alone convinced him that Angalyn would be well cared for at Benden Weyr.

Further discussion included what everyone should watch for while Angalyn experimented with various food combinations and exercise intensity. Oldive detailed which reactions might require sweets, and which might require more exercise or different foods.

Manora gave Angalyn some hard sweet rolls filled with dried fruits to keep at hand, and promised to keep more available in the storerooms. She would also inform her kitchen staff to keep track of which foods were sweetened and at what level.

By the time evening meal was ready, Angalyn was near tears with all the help being so freely offered. She controlled herself though, well into the evening, knowing Nayrith would need one more feeding before the day was through.

Late that evening, after all the Istans and B'roghe had read through all the pages Oldive had provided, Angalyn began to break down from the stress of the day. Mara, having heard her thoughts throughout the reading and following discussion, indicated with her eyes that B'roghe might want to sit on her other side.

B'roghe had also noticed her slow breakdown and was growing increasingly worried for the girl.

When Angalyn began to sob uncontrollably, Mara put a hand on her arm as B'roghe asked what was wrong.

The bronze rider rolled his eyes at Mara at such a stupid question, but offered a hug as the girl blubbered – about so many people being so nice and helpful and was she doing the right thing? and everyone was being so supportive – even as she slid into his arms and hugged his waist. The surprised young man rocked her gently, rubbing her head and arm and back as he crooned soothingly and repeatedly; of course, everyone was willing to help, and she was doing the right thing if she thought so, and of course, she would be just fine.

The other weyrlings just watched and listened, and kept quiet out of respect for the girl's anguish. D'don grew embarrassed though, feeling he was intruding, and excused himself to go to bed.

When Angalyn had fallen asleep and had been carefully tucked into her cot, B'roghe excused himself as well, declaring he needed to rest up for another training day.

Mara, now worried about the young man, followed him out of the small weyr.

"I don't understand," began B'roghe. "She was . . . raped! How can she allow me to even touch her?"

"She's a smart girl. She knows that not all men are like those on that ship. And she trusts you." Mara shrugged, pretending to not understand the last statement.

B'roghe leaned against the wall and looked up at the stars. "Do I deserve such trust?"

Mara listened to the young man's thoughts, wondering why he should doubt himself, and quickly realized he was only considering the massive responsibility inherent in so much trust. "She thinks you do." When he finally looked a question at her, she added, "And so do I, for what it's worth. Can you handle it?"

Nothing like a challenge to snap a man out of self doubt. "Of course, I can handle it," the bronze weyrling smirked. "I have younger siblings, and cousins." Even as he said this though, he wondered if he could possibly treat Angalyn like a sibling or cousin. She was . . . different. "I can handle this!" he snapped at the grinning brown weyrling. "Good night, Mara!" With that, he marched off to the weyrling barracks.

"Good night, B'roghe." Mara grinned at a smiling Master Harper as she returned to the weyr and settled in for a good rest. She couldn't help briefly comparing B'roghe to G'raden; both were strong, kind and highly trustworthy men. B'roghe just needed a little more confidence in his own value and abilities.

* * *

PLEASE NOTE: I am far from an expert, and not even very knowledgable about diabetes, as should be noticed in my leaving out any deep level of detail. I needed another affliction for poor Angalyn and did some quick research, so please don't spam about any major discrepencies. I would sincerely appreciate corrections though.

Once again: THANKS SO MUCH FOR READING MY _LITTLE_ STORY!

and

REVIEWS ARE ALL GREATLY APPRECIATED!


	26. The Greens Fly!

A special thank you to all who have been reviewing!

You make this sometimes painful process extremely enjoyable!

* * *

Master Mack was gone the next day. K'remin was left with the unenviable task of explaining to the Istan weyrlings that the Harper did not like long farewells, especially when he fully intended to return at every opportunity to witness the growth of the Istan dragons.

Cally took the Harper's silent departure as a personal insult, declaring tearfully that friends did not just disappear. She moped for several candle-marks, until Selikar visited the weyrling, apologizing profusely for the inexcusable delay in relaying a message and package from Master Mack. The hide wrapped package contained several items: a signed note saying 'For your remembrance, my dear Cally, and your clutch-mates', a full page colored drawing of Mynth being oiled by her rider, similar drawings of each of the other Istans – though Klamath was drawn as standing on his prone rider – and a wooden whistle. Not mentioned – by Mack or Selikar – was the fact the whistle had been retrieved from her family's cot. Selikar offered to teach her to play the whistle and offered advice on caring for it and the beautiful drawings. Cally was mollified to the point of feeling guilty about her anger at her very dear friend. She only realized the true origin of her whistle when, during their first lesson, Selikar played a simple tune for demonstration purposes. The remainder of that first lesson was spent talking about her parents and their small Hold, but Cally did learn proper finger placements and a simple scale. Within a sevenday, she was playing very simple tunes.

Cally presented her clutch-mates with their drawings that night, much to their delight. Free time was spent talking about their mutual friend.

As part of his visit to the southern end of the Weyr, Selikar also met with L'ret to discuss Harper training needs for the newest class of weyrlings. All weyrlings would be involved in training on the Charter of Pern, the history of Pern, and current politics of Pern. Some required more basic training on proper social behavior and basic decision making. A few were still learning how to read or write or do basic mathematical calculations. All would be tested on their knowledge of the teaching songs and trained where found lacking. More specialized music classes would be offered during scheduled free time to anyone interested. And a few would be offered more advanced self-study options in areas of their choosing. Two candle-marks a day were set aside for Harper training, though times were always subject to change based on young dragon needs and, of course, Thread.

Mara was placed with the beginning students. While she had learned to read rather quickly, she still needed to learn legible writing, and knew none of the teaching ballads. She was able to do basic math, but didn't know how to write out her calculations. Her singing voice was . . . horrendous! She had a wide alto range, but no control whatsoever. She had never been allowed to sing or even hum in her father's cot, and that lack of use was painfully obvious to poor Selikar, who excelled in singing. She did have a good ear for music though, and Selikar soon found her merely mouthing the words to the teaching ballads to avoid disrupting the remainder of the class. The Weyr Harper allowed her cheating during class – she was at least learning the words – but held her after each day for personal and very basic training, one note at a time. When – if ever – she could hold her notes steady, she might feel more comfortable singing with the rest of the class, and indeed the rest of the Weyr.

Angalyn immediately took her diabetes and prenatal care very seriously. On seeing her taking notes at the morning meal and leaving with a redfruit and some orange roots, L'ret quickly obtained a small carisak from Manora's storerooms. The girl carried that carisak everywhere, except into the pools or the lake. After watching her try to run with the carisak flopping or being held under one arm, L'ret sewed up a backpack which would make running – and just about everything else – far easier for the girl. The combination of exercise and between meal healthy snacks improved the girl's mood and functionality tremendously. Having had quite adequate Harper training, she spent more time with the Healers and with Pricella, T'mos and Tomella.

Cally was required to attend some of the classes simply due to her age, but as she proved her proficiency to Selikar's satisfaction, she was allowed to spend more time with the Healers.

D'don had also received adequate Harper training, but was found lacking in the social etiquette and decision making areas. He quickly learned how to analyze what people were saying – whether teasingly or not – and learned to think before speaking. His self confidence rose daily as he learned new 'tricks'.

All weyrlings were now permitted access to the Weyr Library, and B'roghe made extensive use of the facility. He routinely borrowed a book and finished it in a day or two, only to return it and borrow yet another. His subject of study varied from day to day, though history – of Pern and of Earth – seemed to take up most of his time.

B'rand appeared to change completely after his long talk with – or from – the Weyrleaders. He took better care of Tagamarth and even participated somewhat in classes. He had considerable trouble with team projects though, always feeling he should be in charge, and grew even more distant if anyone else were put in charge. L'ret had to talk to him several times, reminding the boy he was not a bronze rider until L'ret said so. Until then he was just a weyrling like everyone else in his class, and everyone would be given the opportunity to lead their fellow classmates.

Barely a sevenday after Mack left, the dragons were growing so fast the barracks began to feel a bit crowded and the Istan dragons filled nearly half of the single couch in their weyr. All the newest dragons were down to eating only twice a day, though the Istans still needed a snack at midday. Fewer feedings, however, did not mean less meat. On the contrary, each dragon was eating easily twice what they had eaten on their first full day, so each of the weyrlings spent at least a candle-mark a day butchering or chopping meat.

The Istan dragons were no longer the smallest of their respective colors. Mynth and Nayrith were actually a tiny bit larger than the smallest green in the class. Gredarth was now only the third smallest blue, and Klamath was in the middle range of the browns. There was still a noticeable difference between the two golds, but Lessa assured Brendeen that Saraneth would continue growing until she was done; she might be slightly smaller than Biradeth, or she might just outgrow her in the long run. Size was not as important as mentality, and Lessa had no worries about Saraneth – or her rider after speaking with her more.

The little dragons were sleeping less as well, which allowed more training in pairs. More complicated games were introduced including racing, which was the greens' favorite; they might be smaller than the browns and bronzes, but they were also quicker, much to the embarrassment of one bronze weyrling. Again, B'rand had to be taken aside so L'ret could explain that bigger did not mean faster. Each dragon's strengths would be tested and improved at various stages in weyrling training.

Wing strengthening exercises prompted a few little ones to try to fly, but they were stopped – by Duranth and other dragons who happened to be watching – before doing any damage to their fragile wings. As a result, flapping of one's wings was strictly forbidden except during closely monitored exercise sessions.

Between Harper training, preparing meat for their dragons, weyrling classes, marching exercises, organized games and chores – not to mention the twice daily feeding and baths and sometimes more frequent oiling – the weyrlings had very little time to themselves; usually a candle-mark or less at the end of the day.

Most of the little dragons were now waking up with Rukbat's lighting of the Weyr bowl. With the days shortening, this left a little more time each day for the weyrlings to take care of personal chores, if they woke early enough.

Mara had developed somewhat of a routine – at least for the start of each day. She woke before sunrise, ran and walked her lap and read her dictionary – while walking – until the other Istans rose.

On this day, when Klamath was just over two sevendays old, something felt different as Mara began her lap. The air seemed to sizzle as if from static electricity. More dragons than normal were waking early, and were in exceptionally good humor, though some of the greens – and even the golds – seemed a bit short tempered. Only when the green on the fire heights moved to the edge of the small plateau did Mara see the reason for the excitement. The pretty green shone magnificently, as if lit from within. Some of the greens would be taking their mating flights this day!

As Mara ran past the halfway mark to the northern end of the bowl, Lessa stepped out on Ramoth's ledge, shook her head at the glowing green on the fire heights, and then surveyed the rest of the Weyr bowl. On seeing Mara, she waved her up the steps, and disappeared back into her weyr.

Mara ran the remaining distance to the bottom of the steps and was thrilled that she could still say 'Dragonriders' almost twice in one breath. When she started walking up the long stone stairway, though, she wondered at her wisdom in running the last several dragon lengths. Running was getting easier with practice, but she had not been practicing on steps, and her legs rebelled at the new demand. At the top of the steps she found she could no longer say 'Dragonriders' even once, so stood back against the wall until her breathing slowed. She closed her eyes as she concentrated on controlling her lungs.

A loud, breathy huff from above blasted the weyrling with herdbeast and firestone scented wind for a moment. When she could safely open her eyes, a large, amused bronze head faced her squarely, his long sinuous neck stretched down from the weyr above.

"Good day, Mnementh," offered Mara with a barely suppressed grin.

_Good day for exercise. Ramoth's rider awaits your entrance._

"Thank you, Mnementh." The bronze did not return to his own weyr, so Mara made every effort to walk as straight and tall as possible on still protesting legs.

Inside, Ramoth grunted, but with amusement in her eyes.

"Good day, Ramoth." Mara nodded and offered a slight bow to the beautiful gold. No response from the normally friendly queen – at least to Mara – confirmed the woman's earlier suspicion that the gold also felt the excitement in the air.

"Back here, Mara." Lessa was pulling the hanging back between the inner and outer weyr. A mumble from the other side prompted, "I told you she was coming in."

Mara grinned at her Weyrwoman, and walked slowly her way. She hugged the southern wall, hoping to give her Weyrleader a little more time to prepare for a visitor. As she moved closer to the inner weyr, F'lar – who had been in the bed hidden from her view by the curve of the wall – walked into the necessary. He had apparently just donned his trousers – he was still fastening them – but wore no tunic or footwear yet.

"Over here. Would you like some klah? Or water?" Lessa seemed unbothered by – or more likely willfully ignorant of – her weyrmate's state of attire. She acted the perfect hostess as F'lar muttered something about vindictive women.

"Umm, water, please." Mara walked slowly toward the little table inside the rider's weyr, feeling distinctly that she was walking into the middle of a disagreement.

Lessa witnessed the woman's concern and offered a brief explanation. "We told him last night the greens would probably be flying today, and that we'd need to rise early to make preparations."

"Isn't that all pretty well practiced?" asked Mara.

Lessa seemed slightly irritated by the question. She took a deep breath before explaining further. "Well practiced, but we need to inform those without dragons, and F'lar needs to fly some of them out of the Weyr."

F'lar stepped out of the necessary. "I'm ready, my dear, as soon as you tell me where you hid my tunic."

The man may have been in his seventh decade, but Mara could not help but notice he still had the musculature of a very healthy and athletic man of half his age. He showed some signs of aging of course – his skin seemed a bit thinner and the small patch of hair on his tanned chest had a touch of grey – but he certainly did not look like any of the old men Mara had seen on the docks of Keroon. When F'lar grinned and winked at her from behind Lessa, she studied the mug now in her hand.

Lessa closed her eyes and took another deep breath. "I _hid_ it the same place I've _hidden_ it every night for the last thirty Turns."

As F'lar walked back toward the bed to find his 'hidden' tunic hanging on a peg, Lessa poured klah into a third mug and winked at Mara as she moved a bowl of sweetener off the table onto the seat of a fourth chair.

Mara bit back a giggle and wondered how many people were aware of the mighty Weyrwoman Lessa's playful side.

F'lar returned to the table, tunic haphazardly scrunched over one shoulder and boots and socks in his hands. He allowed Lessa to straighten his tunic before he sat, but with playful scorn. He sat the foot attire on the floor and reached for his klah.

"Did you put sweetener in it?" he asked Lessa.

"Oldive said . . ."

"I know what Oldive has been saying for the last twenty Turns, but even those blood sucking tests he insists upon can't confirm that I eat too much sweetener. Now, my dear, where did you hide the sweetener?"

Lessa feigned remarkably believable irritation as she merely pointed to the fourth chair.

As F'lar retrieved the small bowl and dumped an unbelievable amount of sweetener into his klah, he suggested Mara sit down with them. After some humorous discussion about whether or not she was old enough to have trouble standing, it was agreed that she could remain standing, and sit when she felt ready.

Lessa and F'lar began telling Mara about all the preparations needed for a day such as this; notifying everyone, preparing travel rations, determining who needed or wanted to leave the Weyr, the many other duties that would need rescheduling, and finally how the weyrlings were dealt with during these mating flights.

As her Weyrleaders – mostly Lessa though – explained in excruciating detail all that this day would entail, Mara received a brief insight that Lessa was thoroughly enjoying talking about their duties, while F'lar was mostly studying the visiting weyrling. Not for the first time, Mara wondered if Lessa had any friends who were not also Weyrwomen.

If she hadn't heard the weyrmates giving directions and asking questions through their dragons, Mara might have wondered if Lessa were exaggerating their duties. As it was though, Mara was fascinated with all they managed to keep track of and manage from inside their weyr while drinking klah.

When the discussion moved to the weyrlings, the true reason for this 'visit' became quite apparent; both Weyrleaders were worried about Pern's first female brown rider and her little dragon. Normally, explained Lessa, boy weyrlings with male dragons were kept separate from boys with greens during mating flights and accompanied by similarly paired older riders to help them all through this sometimes overwhelming experience. And girls with greens were kept with the weyrling golds who were accompanied by older gold and female green riders.

The source of this day's disagreement came out when Lessa stated that Mara and Klamath would be sequestered with the golds. F'lar though, thought they should be kept with the boys with male dragons. After a bit of seemingly heated discussion between the Weyrleaders, Mara offered her opinion.

"I really don't think Klamath is aware of the differences between boys and girls yet – dragons or people. And I'm not sure I'd be comfortable sharing that experience with a group of younger boys." She shrugged apologetically at F'lar for disagreeing with him, but received an accepting nod and grin from the man.

"He'll learn the difference this day!" declared F'lar.

"Ramoth says the greens will fly within the hour," said Lessa.

F'lar pulled his timepiece from a pocket on his tunic. "You'd think they could wait until after morning meal."

Lessa glared. "Feel free to suggest it, dear. You should be prepared to fly beforehand though." She then turned back to Mara. "Ramoth and several others are waking the dragonets as we speak, so you should hurry back to your weyr. Bathing and oiling should be done quickly, and then you and the other girls will come to this end of the Weyr. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you." Mara looked at the now empty mugs and asked if she might take them to the kitchen.

"I'm headed that way, and you need to hurry."

After proper farewells, Mara walked carefully down the steps and then quickly southward with long, powerful steps. After only a few steps, she could feel Klamath waking. Ramoth and the others were using remarkably gentle tactics to wake the dragonets without unnecessary stress.

_Are you running?_

_No, love, I'm walking._

_You're walking really fast._

_I'm hurrying to see you, my love._

_All the big dragons are excited. Duranth says the greens are going to fly this day._

_That's right, Klamath._

_Don't they fly every day?_

_This day, some of them are taking their mating flights._

_Oh. That._

Mara laughed as she walked. Mating flights had been discussed in class again just two days earlier. None of the little dragons had seemed too impressed with any of 'that mating thing'.

Inside the weyr, Mara found Klamath sandwiched between two not quite awake greens. Gredarth still slept next to Nayrith. K'remin had awakened D'don – who was now occupying the necessary – but did not want to frighten Angalyn by being found in the girl's sleeping area. Mara woke the girls and when D'don joined them she explained what was going to happen this day.

The girls took care of their necessary duties while D'don woke Gredarth and then – with mental help from the girls and nudges from Klamath – Nayrith and Mynth. Mara walked to the storage room in the weyrling barracks to obtain bathing and oiling supplies while K'remin stood guard at the entrance to the Istan weyr.

L'ret, his assistants and a good number of other riders – those whose dragons were not interested in chasing the greens this day – began the separation of the sexes even as bathing began. All non-flying weyrlings were included. All girls were kept toward the middle stretch of the lake with full grown green riders lining either side. Boys with greens were sent to the western end of the lake, and boys with other dragons were kept near the weyrling barracks. Adult brown and bronze riders separated the girls from the blues, browns, and bronzes.

The separation had been very casual. Mara didn't even realize what was happening until she stood after bathing Klamath and noticed all the greens to one side and all the blues, browns and bronzes to her other side.

All the weyrlings could feel the excitement of the day, but some were quite uncomfortable with the entire situation, not understanding the feelings emanating from the dragons. Adult intervention was required more than once to keep sometimes new feelings and sometimes very familiar feelings from overruling common sense.

Bathing and oiling went fairly quickly partly due to the older riders' assistance. When Cally and Angalyn finished Mynth and Nayrith, Angalyn sat on shore eating what Manora called 'crackers' while Cally helped a slow waking green pair finish their oiling. Klamath stayed with Nayrith and Mynth while Mara helped a blue pair finish up. B'roghe, with D'don's help, assisted other slow movers.

When all little dragons were well oiled, L'ret ordered the girls to the north end of the bowl. The boys with greens were sent further north on the western wall, almost to the Healers' Caverns. Adult green riders accompanied each group while a large contingent of blue, brown and bronze riders stayed with the other boys.

As they walked in a loose marching formation, Klamath's head swung from side to side.

_Why are we going with the greens?_

_Because I'm a girl. _

_But I'm brown._

_You're almost bronze right now! _

The little brown – most of the time – huffed as he puffed up just a bit.

_Would you rather stay with the other boy dragons?_

_I'd rather stay with Mynth and Nayrith. Why isn't Gredarth with us? Aren't we supposed to stay together?_

Mara was surprised that he still remembered that fact, but realized he might also be simply assuming since they had spent so much time together, they were _supposed_ to stay together. _Because Gredarth and his rider are both boys. And Dandreth and his rider will take care of them._

Their conversation was halted when Mara's – and Klamath's – least favorite green riders approached. They were both careful to keep Mara between them and the hissing little brown.

"What are you doing with the greens?" asked the taller woman.

"As ordered; moving to the northern end."

"Only greens come north," said the shorter of the two.

"Greens and browns with female riders, according to Weyrwoman Lessa." Mara hated using Lessa to back her up, but these riders would be a problem otherwise. "There she is." Mara pointed out the diminutive Weyrwoman. "Ask her."

The two troublesome green riders did approach Lessa. Lessa's red face did not bode well for the duo. After some terse words about 'hidebound holdbreds', they were both dismissed from assisting any of the green weyrlings, much to their embarrassment. After a moment of reflection, though, Lessa called them back. They would not be allowed to speak to any of the weyrlings, but were tasked with observing and listening.

As they arrived just outside the Hatching Grounds, each weyrling was soon accompanied by two or three full riders. They quickly determined each weyrling's state of understanding or confusion and adjusted their helping circles accordingly. Lenarra, Benden's only full grown junior queen, made the rounds of all the weyrlings making certain all were properly attended.

Full grown green dragons were interspersed among the weyrlings and their little greens. Ayrieth – Lenarra's gold – sat aside observing, with a weyrling gold sitting regally on either side. Little dragons were either excited or confused depending on the state of mind of their riders. Ramoth lounged on her ledge observing all the little dragons throughout the bowl.

Mara and Klamath were pretty much left alone until Lessa joined them.

"Who do you think needs the most help," asked Lessa.

Mara had been _listening_ to her fellow weyrlings for just that reason, thinking she might be able to help. "Angalyn and Kylee. Cally might need help once the greens take off; she's excited, but doesn't really understand what's coming."

As Mara watched, the named green weyrlings were all gently herded by green dragons closer to Lessa.

When the first proddy green screamed her challenge to the males, several girls squealed in response; Kylee in fear and the others in shared excitement. Lessa got Kylee's attention and spoke gently, but firmly to the girl. She strongly suggested the girl calm down for the benefit of her little dragon, and just listen. Nothing horrible was happening. On the contrary, what was happening was the most wonderful time in any dragon's life and should be enjoyed by her rider.

Mara dropped to her knees to be closer to Klamath. He wasn't afraid; all the big dragons were seeing to that, each selecting a little dragon to talk through their first experience with draconic mating. Both brown dragon and weyrling listened and felt what other dragons were feeling; excitement, anticipation, joy, and finally complete and total release. Klamath was in awe, not understanding all of 'that mating thing', but overwhelmed by the shared joy and satisfaction.

Cally had also listened and felt through Mynth some of what the flying greens were feeling. When it was over though, she was in shock. Her breathing became ragged and tears welled in her eyes. And she didn't hear anything her escorts were saying to her.

Mara _heard_ Cally's disbelief, disgust and resulting shock.

_Should we go help Mynth and her rider?_

_That's a good idea. Mynth is getting scared._

When Mara pressed through the group of women trying to calm Cally, the girl launched into her friend's arms. Mara rocked her and soothed her, telling her that she was not yet a woman, so of course it all seemed pretty scary. She would know she was a woman when it stopped being scary and started being exciting. For now though, she should concentrate on how happy the flying greens were after such a thrilling flight.

Mynth did pretty much the same with Klamath, though they wound up facing their riders with necks and tails entwined, one of Klamath's wings spread over Mynth's back.

Most of the green weyrlings weathered their first draconic mating experience quite calmly, though quite a few were now displaying increased levels of . . . energy. As they walked among themselves, their hips swung a bit more than normal and tongues needed to moisturize dry lips repeatedly.

Kylee was doing quite well; Lessa's calm, firm reassurances and ready answers to any questions sufficiently squelched any fears the girl had once had. Now, she too was swaying a bit more than normal.

Angalyn, having been kept company by Pricella and another rider who had once been raped, now understood that dragon mating was not as bad as she had feared. Her escorts also informed her that when the time came for Nayrith's first flight, only more experienced and proven gentle riders would be allowed to participate in the chase.

B'roghe and D'don had been attended to by K'remin and L'terick. B'roghe was old enough to have experienced human mating, but was amazed at the feelings coming through Dandreth from the flying greens and the male dragons alike. He also had enough self control that K'remin felt somewhat useless, or would have if B'roghe hadn't been thoughtful enough to at least ask questions. D'don had only very recently even begun to think of girls as anything other than just friends or nuisances, and now had a better understanding of why. L'terick was thrilled to explain a few things to the maturing boy.

B'rand experienced an unusual amount of fear when the first green screamed her challenge. The two riders with him were quite puzzled. When one of the rider's dragons recommended Tagamarth listen closer to the bronzes and browns, B'rand's fear was quickly replaced with something else, almost as if he were participating in the chase, and closing in on his prey.

After such an exhilarating experience, all the weyrlings found themselves full of excess energy. Some were extremely anxious to talk to some of their future partners. For that reason, the three groups would be kept separated for the remainder of the day. They would eventually find their own ways to deal with mating flights; until that time, the Weyr would keep their bodies, if not their minds, fully occupied until the excitement wore off.

Full riders delivered first trays of food for the weyrlings, and then buckets of meat to the two groups away from the barracks. After all the weyrlings and their little dragons were fed, the green weyrlings were separated into smaller groups. Each group would be assigned to scrub – top to bottom – one of the many storage chambers in preparation for delivery of the coming harvest tithes. The size of each group was planned to allow dragons to accompany their riders. Pairs should not be separated after a morning such as this. Weyrlings with male dragons – except for Mara – were assigned to sort, bag and stack firestone. When they finished early, they were tasked with rearranging the stacked firestone until L'ret and others deemed them sufficiently drained of any residual sexual energy.

When a few of the green weyrling groups completed their tasks before midday meal, they were tasked with running until they were too tired to even think of anything more energetic.

At the noon meal, everyone sat in segregated groups – adults and weyrlings alike – for the further protection of young, easily frightened dragons.

After the midday meal, all non-flying weyrlings were kept segregated for debriefings on the day's events. Most weyrlings were tired enough to sit through candle-marks of sharing impressions and tactics for dealing with future mating flights. They would need to strengthen their skills quickly; Ramoth was due to fly again fairly soon.

By the end of the day, the weyrlings were dragging. Most used their little bit of free-time to warm their cots without even bathing first. Cally tried to play a simple lullaby for her clutch-mates from her cot, but made it only halfway through. She fell asleep with the whistle still between her lips, not that anyone but Mara and L'terick noticed.

The blue rider chuckled when he stepped around the wall to determine why only one note was being played so softly. Mara had been reading her dictionary and humming along. When she realized the tune had stopped, she walked to Cally's cot, carefully removed the whistle, wrapped it and placed it near the girl's pillow where she would find it in the morning.

"You're not tired?" asked L'terick.

Mara shrugged. "My body is."

"Do you have any questions?"

After a moment of thought, the woman smiled. "Yes, I do. How do you, and the other experienced riders deal with mating flights when your dragons aren't flying?"

The handsome young man blushed and grinned. "You do get used to it. You have to; the greens tend to fly at least once a sevenday, sometimes more often. They do seem to hold off for a couple of sevendays though after a hatching. I suppose its instinctive protection of the youngsters." Seeing the woman wasn't satisfied, he blushed deeper. "Most riders have either weyrmates or willing partners for days like this. If not . . . do you know what masturbation is?" When she shook her head, he pursed his lips and clenched his eyes closed.

"Should I look it up?"

L'terick chuckled. "Not necessary. I've never discussed it with a . . . female though. Sometimes it's called 'playing with yourself', or 'scratching an itch'."

"Ohhh!" Now Mara blushed, and laughed. She did have two younger brothers after all, and had caught them scratching their itches more than once, and had scratched a few of her own itches over the Turns as well.

"Didn't the women talk to you girls about this?"

"Oh, yes, but they called it . . . self gratification. I had to look _that_ up. But, what do you do when your dragon's too young to understand?"

"Ah, focus on something else until he's asleep, then just be careful."

"Ahh. Thanks."

As they avoided looking at each other, the watch dragon's welcoming bugle echoed through the bowl. Both stepped outside to see who was arriving so late.

"It's T'men!" declared Mara.

* * *

Well, this seems a little boring, but I'm trying to avoid too much detail for a while.

Still got over twenty Turns to cover in this story, so gotta start paraphrasing somewhere.


	27. T'men Reports

I'm not real happy with the end of this chapter, but didn't want to make you wait another week or two.

* * *

"It's T'men!" repeated Mara.

L'terick studied the woman. Her excitement at the arrival of a bronze rider could be a problem. Trying for a conversational tone, he asked, "How do you know Wingleader T'men?"

Mara didn't need to hear his thoughts to pick up on his concern. "He taught me to read, and lots of other things!" She stalled here; couldn't tell anyone all the things T'men had taught her in preparation for visiting Ista Weyr, but she had to say something to lessen his concern. "He plays word games that make learning even more fun. Did you know he was a Harper before he impressed Reyuth?"

The blue rider began to relax, but he had to know for certain. "Do you like him the way you like G'raden?" The shock on the woman's face said far more than any words could.

"He's a friend, and a teacher!" Now she blushed a bit. "I don't like anyone quite like G'raden."

L'terick laughed – both with amusement and relief. "In that case, I was informed earlier that if you were still awake and interested, you are welcome to join Wingleader T'men and the Weyrleaders in the Weyrwoman's chambers, but only if it won't bother Klamath in any way."

Mara grinned as her hazel eyes sparkled. "Even hugging T'men didn't bother Klamath earlier. And he's sound asleep now."

"Go, then, but remember tomorrow will be another long day."

"Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!" Mara was already backing out of the weyr as she grinned and bowed slightly.

She wanted to run to see T'men as quickly as possible, but really was bone tired, and it was dark outside – the moons were up, but not yet lighting Benden Weyr's bowl – so she merely walked at a comfortable pace. She spoke with Reyuth on the way and grew more and more somber with each step. T'men was worn out again from all he had been doing at Ista Weyr. She wondered what he could be doing that didn't allow him to rest, and quickly decided to wait for any answers. Surely the Weyrleaders would be curious as well.

Reyuth had settled on the floor of the bowl just below Lessa's weyr. He looked as tired as he had described T'men. He did raise his head to nod at Mara when she reached the steps.

_They're waiting for you._

_Thank you, Reyuth._

The steps were a literal pain again; even more so now that she was so very tired. As she trudged along, she heard laughter from above. Raising her head, she found two bronze riders, a brown rider, and a harper standing at the top.

"Typical weyrling – weak," growled F'lar.

"Her running is improving," offered L'ret.

"She's losing a lot of weight," complained T'men.

"She still can't sing," added Selikar.

The last comment made Mara smile. She lowered her head and resumed her climb.

"Proper dragonriders would offer to help the Lady," scolded Lessa from behind the men.

"She's a weyrling!" protested F'lar.

"She's my friend," warned Lessa.

Mara immediately heard boots descending the stone stairs.

"Not you, T'men," scolded Lessa.

In short order, Mara had a big, strong dragonrider on each arm, almost lifting her up the stairs.

"Oh, thank you, sirs! I didn't realize I was this tired."

F'lar spoke past Mara to L'ret. "Another rider we'll have to keep on a tight lead?"

"Can't say I have much experience in holding weyrlings back," grumbled L'ret.

Mara smiled and blushed at the embarrassment of being helped by both her Weyrlingmaster and her Weyrleader.

At the top, and several steps onto the landing, F'lar released Mara's arm and bowed to Lessa. "Your friend has arrived, My Lady."

"Thank you, F'lar." Lessa pushed him out of the way to take up his position at Mara's free arm. "Are you all right, dear?"

"Yes, ma'am, thanks to these very fine riders."

"Good. Let's get this over with so we can all get the rest we need."

While F'lar and Selikar guided T'men into the Council Chambers, Lessa, with L'ret on Mara's other side, held the weyrling back a few paces. She pointed to her temple as she said, "I'd like you to listen closely to everything T'men has to say this evening."

"Yes, Lessa." Mara wondered about the reasons for such a request, but again decided to wait for any answers.

They all sat near Lessa's end of the table and made small talk while she poured wine or water for each person. Mara used the time to study T'men and was not comforted by his 'harper smile' or his teasing wink. His face was pale despite his tan, and he had dark circles under his sunken, bloodshot and dull blue eyes. Even his sun-bleached hair looked dull. He steadied himself with arms laid on the table. Istan style short sleeves revealed gaunt and shaky appendages.

Once they had all sipped from their glasses, F'lar requested the bronze rider's report.

Wingleader T'men began by detailing how much each of the people from Benden Weyr was doing to assist Ista Weyr in its reorganization. He eyed his wineglass several times while telling how invaluable F'nor and Brekke were to the mission, and then named each of the other people and listed their achievements thus far.

Lessa noticed T'men's longing gazes at his wineglass. "Is there a problem with the wine? It's our best Benden red."

T'men smiled at his Weyrwoman. "You dosed me with fellis last time I was here, Weyrwoman."

Lessa's head twitched just slightly. "You needed some rest. But we need your report. Your wine is untainted, I assure you, but I will give you a sleeping tonic to take to your weyr."

"Yes, ma'am!" T'men took a long drink of his Benden red before moving on to tell how Ista's riders were managing the changes.

G'dened supported all the changes the team of bronze riders was suggesting for the Weyr, but with considerable reluctance at times. Ista's Weyrleader was extremely worried about Cosira, who was not responding well to treatment of her overuse of whatever had been used to control her. Oldive feared the misuse of such a potent narcotic – which he refused to give any details about, claiming it to be a Craft protected secret – may have caused permanent brain damage. G'dened and Barnath were also spending considerable time trying to reassure Caylith.

Ista Weyr's queen dragon had promised she would maintain hope, at least until young Saraneth was ready for her first mating flight. It was difficult though. A queen dragon needed almost constant contact with her rider to maintain control of her instinctive overreactions and over the other dragons in her Weyr. And Caylith had been without that comforting contact for far too long already.

Lessa refilled T'men's wineglass each time he emptied it. He didn't seem to be aware of how much he was drinking, but was visibly relaxing with each long draft.

The junior queens visiting Ista Weyr spent most of their time with Caylith, soothing her and reassuring her about the quality of the Healers helping her rider. The visiting junior weyrwomen also spent a great deal of time with the heartsick queen when they weren't dealing with other Weyr matters.

Ista's junior weyrwomen were nearly worthless, though Sansheena was at least willing and capable of learning her duties, and extremely grateful for the other Weyrs' intervention at Ista Weyr; she and her gold no longer dreaded their next mating flight and the resultant hatching. Gridella had been a spoiled brat before she impressed a gold dragon, and would merely need to be controlled for the time being. One of the bronze riders from High Reaches actually found Toric's daughter rather intriguing in a childish sort of way. In the best interests of all Pern, he had heroically offered to keep her occupied until all changes were firmly in place. And while entertaining her, he was learning even more about her father's seemingly limitless influence.

As T'men continued his report, his words came slower, as if he needed to concentrate on each syllable. When he began listing Ista's riders and their efforts in rehabilitating – or sabotaging – Ista Weyr, Lessa grew impatient.

"We don't have time for all this now, T'men. Tell us about Toric. Where is he and what all has he done?"

T'men laughed almost hysterically; a sure indication of his level of fatigue and inebriation. After regaining his tenuous control – and another long drink of wine – he shook his head. "Toric still resides in the storeroom downstream from the weyrling barracks when he's not scrubbing latrines, and makes his dissatisfaction known at every opportunity. 'What all he's done' would take a day or two to list, and we're learning of more infractions every day."

"And the odds of his being found guilty at a Conclave?" asked F'lar.

Again T'men laughed, though with far more reserve. "He was Thread-bait the day of the Hatching, F'lar, based on the testimonies received from each of the Lords Holder and Craft Masters present that day, and quite a few from other Holders, Crafts people and even individuals from all over Pern."

"Very good," declared Lessa as she stood. "This can continue on the morrow. Now we'll all get the rest we desperately need."

When T'men tried to stand, his legs refused to cooperate, causing him to plop awkwardly back into his chair. The overly fatigued and apparently drunk man began giggling at his inability.

F'lar moved quickly to help Selikar keep T'men from falling off the chair. "When's the last time you ate, Wingleader?"

Giggling like a young girl now, T'men thought hard before simply shrugging. "Morning? Klah and a sweet roll?"

That would explain why he looked so terribly thin. How often had he eaten so little in the past couple of sevendays? Mara was amazed that this man could speak so fluently even when his body and apparently his emotions were beyond his control. And despite his thoughts, his report had been so . . . tame. Mara wondered how he managed that, and realized she had a lot more to learn from the man, if he was willing. At least he seemed to be happy, in spite of all that was happening at Ista. Her father had never been happy when he was drunk; he'd been mean and spiteful.

Lessa shook her head and smiled at the bronze rider as he was helped to his feet. "I've never seen him like this." She looked up at Mara and 'tsked'. "I probably should have offered food as well as wine. Now I suppose I should trade his sleeping tonic for a hangover remedy."

F'lar and Selikar helped T'men safely down the stairs and nearly carried him to Mnementh's side. L'ret, after making sure Mara didn't roll down the stairs, helped load T'men onto Mnementh.

While all four men laughed and joked about loading firestone, Lessa questioned Mara. "So, what did 'Harper T'men' gloss over in his presentation?"

Mara smiled cautiously; now she understood Lessa's earlier request. "A lot. Weyrleader G'dened's . . . reluctance? . . . has been keeping T'men and the other bronze riders up until middle night with meetings to talk about every little detail. And Weyrwoman Sansheena has been sneaking into T'men's weyr when he's in those meetings, so T'men's been sleeping with Reyuth. She is happy the Weyrs stopped Toric, but mostly because she wants T'men back as a weyrmate. And Masterhealer Oldive more than fears Weyrwoman Cosira's been brain damaged; he stops by almost every day just to help give Caylith reason to hope she'll recover."

Lessa gasped involuntarily. "Poor Caylith." She took a deep steadying breath before asking, "Anything else?"

"Well, T'men is truly grateful for Wingleader F'nor's and Brekke's help and advice, but most of the Istan riders try to ignore them; F'nor because he's only a brown rider, and Brekke because she's not even a dragonrider anymore." When Lessa's face reddened enough to be seen in the moonlight, Mara added, "At least they're both getting lots of sleep at night; G'dened won't allow them into his meetings."

"Those flaming fools!" Lessa studied Mara for a few heartbeats before asking, "So, why is our Wingleader T'men not resting or eating?"

The Weyrwoman had to be kidding, thought Mara, or testing. She believed the second option to be more likely, but chose her answer based on the first. "Besides the all night meetings? And not being able to sleep in his own cot? And somehow knowing what every person in the Weyr is doing and how they feel about Ista's recovery?" Lessa's smile had grown with each question. Mara shrugged her shoulders and donned an unconvincing, innocent smirk. "I don't know, Lessa."

L'ret hesitated to join the laughing women as Mnementh and Reyuth launched into the air. Seeing his Weyrwoman laugh was always a joy to be treasured. Lessa noticed his approach though, and still smiling, waved him over.

"Why do you look so shocked, Weyrlingmaster?" Lessa knew very well the man had seen her laugh before this night.

L'ret grinned, but with uncertainty. "I'm not sure if I should be honored, or insulted, or jealous, Weyrwoman." He laughed when both women looked surprised. "Up on Mnementh? T'men looked straight at me and called me 'sweet thing' . . . and asked me to share his bed this night."

"Whoa!" Mara's mind whirled as she nearly fell backward. Lessa's strong little hands on her arm helped to avoid the fall. Did T'men call anyone else 'sweet thing'? She had never heard him do so. Should she be insulted that T'men mistook L'ret for her? He must be really drunk. But, why would he ask her such a thing? He knew about G'raden. Surely, he wasn't actually talking to L'ret – who was now chuckling at her confusion. "Maybe he likes brown riders?"

L'ret howled, but quickly clamped his mouth shut as he shook with suppressed laughter. Most of the Weyr should be sleeping this late after all. "He also called me 'sweet Mara'."

"He's drunk! People say really strange things when their drunk."

"People tend to say what's on their mind when they're drunk," added Lessa with a smile. "Even things they've been keeping hidden."

"But . . . why?"

"Why not?" asked L'ret.

"He's a handsome man, and smart and funny and kind, and so very handsome. He should be looking at pretty young girls, not big old damaged women."

L'ret chuckled while Lessa groaned. "Not all men look for pretty and young," said the Weyrlingmaster. "Some prefer intelligent and kind . . . sweet women. Looks aren't as important to some as what's beneath the skin; inside the heart and mind."

Mara shook her head. "He needs someone who can give him more children. Have you ever heard him talk about his daughter? He loves children."

"He would love children even if they weren't his," offered Lessa.

Mara shook her head and tried to speak a few times. Finally she managed, "No. We're just friends!"

"All right then," said L'ret. "He's just drunk, and probably spoke from someplace even he wasn't aware of. You don't worry about it, Mara."

Mara stared dumbfounded at the man; don't worry about it? She turned to her smiling Weyrwoman. "Could I have given him the wrong . . . message?"

Lessa laughed. "If so, you're giving lots of people the wrong message." When the weyrling did not understand, she explained. "Mara, you are a sweet and kind woman. Everyone I've talked to likes you . . . with very few exceptions, and they're probably just jealous. The message you send to everyone – as far as I've seen – is one of love and acceptance."

L'ret added, "If anyone takes that the wrong way, it's more than likely due to a shortage of such things in their lives."

Lessa nodded. "In T'men's case, he had neither at Ista Weyr. When he first transferred here, he was suspicious of anyone who was kind to him. This night's events simply confirm that he once again feels . . . lovable."

Mara sighed. "I suppose that's a good thing, but . . ."

L'ret chuckled. "Tomorrow, if he even remembers, he will be extremely embarrassed by his audacity." When the weyrling's face scrunched, he added, "Look it up. And then get some sleep. Don't worry about this, Mara. I don't intend to. Do you, Lessa?"

"No, I do not. And if you two will join me for some tea, I believe I know the reason for this unusual behavior."

Mara's pleading eyes informed L'ret that his weyrling would not be getting any sleep without hearing her Weyrwoman's explanation, so they all walked to the Dining Cavern which was nearly empty this late at night.

After being served a full pot of sleep-time tea by a kind kitchen helper, Lessa elicited promises of secrecy from her companions. What she told them next did indeed explain T'men's strange behavior. A bit more discussion, mostly between the women, of Lessa's theories on friendships, partnerships, and life-long commitments soon found Mara yawning as fatigue overpowered interest.

"Sleep time!" declared Lessa with a two-handed slap to the table top.

As they all stood and Lessa collected the tea pot and empty mugs – after gently slapping Mara's hands away – Mara couldn't resist asking her Weyrlingmaster, "What did you tell him, sir?"

"Hmm?" L'ret pretended ignorance.

Mara grinned at the man. "When T'men asked you to share his bed, what did you tell him?"

L'ret grimaced, but definitely winked at Lessa. "I was honest, more or less. I told him . . ." He cleared his throat and finished in a pained falsetto. "I can't, T'men. Klamath might need me."

All three laughed for different reasons as they left the Dining Cavern; Mara at L'ret's attempted feminine voice, L'ret at Mara's reaction to his attempt at lightening what might have been a difficult situation, and Lessa at the joy of being with people so easily amused.

Weyrlingmaster and weyrling did not speak much on the walk to the other end of the bowl. They commented on the two beautiful moons, and the silence of the Weyr, but did not speak of Lessa's secret.

Mara did look up the word 'audacity' before retiring, and grinned at the very thought of T'men ever being audacious. He was indeed brave, but not at all bold or daring; he was far too careful to be either. And he had certainly never shown any lack of respect to anyone or anything – at least as far as Mara knew. Before falling asleep, she couldn't help comparing T'men with G'raden. Both were intelligent and brave and funny and handsome in their own ways, but G'raden was so much more; he had been almost as much a part of her very soul as Klamath was now. He seemed to understand everything about her even without words. And his touch?

Shivers caused Mara to quickly change the focus of her thoughts to her dear little brown dragon. She finally fell asleep imagining Pern as seen from high above from the back of her soon to be very large brown dragon.

* * *

Klamath woke his rider the next morning, a little worried that she was sleeping so late. After hearing about a late night meeting with T'men and the Weyrleaders, though, his focus quickly changed to the nearly unbearable itching along his spine, down his tail and the entire length of his wing bones – both major and minor.

After all little, but rapidly growing, dragons had been bathed and oiled to the Weyrlingmaster's and his assistants' satisfaction, and after the dragons' and their riders' morning meal, the class was separated into smaller groups.

As on most days this last sevenday, each group marched for a while to warm up young – and some old – muscles. Each group also performed now-routine wing stretching and strengthening exercises under the watchful supervision of extra full riders and their influential dragons.

One by one, the groups were marched to an area full of high ranking riders, including the Weyrleaders, Wingleaders, Healers, and curious observers – though observers stood back out of the way. After a bit more supervised stretching, each individual dragon was permitted to flap his or her wings. The dragon's rider was asked to carefully monitor for any signs of stress; even a small pin prick sensation could indicate the potential for damage to young, developing wings. Ramoth, Mnementh, and several other full grown dragons also monitored each youngster.

While waiting for Klamath's turn to arrive, Mara thought about the purpose of the exercise. While fire lizards could fly almost instantly after hatching, dragons – being so much bigger – needed to be far more careful. While it was true that most dragons could do whatever they believed they could do, some in the distant past had severely overestimated their abilities and wound up crippled – at least as far as flying – for life. Now, each young dragon was assessed routinely to determine if they were ready for the next stage of exercises. Only the most audacious – Mara liked the sound of this new word – of dragons were in danger of injuring themselves with all the support _and control_ of the surrounding older dragons.

Mara also realized weyrlings were being assessed as well. Ramoth, and therefore Lessa, would know if a small one was being pushed or prodded by a weyrling, and such a careless weyrling would then be pulled aside for a severe, one-on-one lecture concerning dragonet safety. She had witnessed this when B'rand tried to push Tagamarth into flapping harder than was requested 'to prove his superior strength'. The dragons had kept Tagamarth to a safe level of effort and the exercise was ended abruptly for the sake of the necessary disciplinary discussion.

_I could fly . . . if they'd let me. _Klamath sounded so wistful.

_I'm sure you could, dear one, but we need to follow the rules. And if we break the rules, they might not let us fly even longer._

Mara didn't like scaring Klamath with talk of injuries – that had been covered quite thoroughly in classes and had made quite an impression on the little ones. Even if they wouldn't remember the details for very long, they were hopefully learning to trust their riders and the Weyrlingmaster were looking out for their best interests. Mara would only resort to fear tactics if Klamath proved too determined to prove 'them' wrong. Though, one could argue that the threat of being grounded even longer than necessary was cause for fear. Well, thought Mara, following the rules was just as important as avoiding injury.

Klamath was magnificent – at least in Mara's opinion. He followed instructions exactly, even though he told all the older dragons he was definitely ready to fly, repeatedly. He didn't complain about being held back, but did share that it wasn't necessary. Yes, he understood that little wings and muscles needed to be built up carefully, but _his_ wings were quite capable of doing what they were designed for; he wasn't as big as the older dragons so his wings didn't need to be as big and strong as theirs.

All the older dragons agreed Klamath probably could fly if he had to, but all also agreed he shouldn't try until the humans were comfortable with his development. No dragon liked stressing their rider, and Klamath should avoid worrying his rider as well. How would he feel if she got hurt trying to do more than she should?

Klamath was mostly silent after that question. When flapping just a little harder – by request of Ramoth – caused his feet to lift off the ground, he was elated. After a surprised, awkward landing, it was difficult to stand still as the healers and riders felt his muscles and joints, asking if there was any discomfort.

Mara tried to keep him calm throughout the 'post-flight' inspection, but bounced a bit herself from the excitement coming through their bond.

When the little brown dragon was released from his inspection, he bounced to his rider and poked her in the belly, knocking her to the ground. Straddling her was easy now his legs had grown some, so he walked over her until his nose touched her chin.

_I told you I could fly! Did you see?_

_I saw! You're so big and strong; you'll be the best flying dragon ever, Klamath!_

_And you'll be the best rider ever! I know it!_

A feminine throat clearing caused both to look to their sides.

Lessa stood with arms crossed a few steps away, her face severely pinched to avoid smiling at what she'd heard from Klamath. "Is there a problem here?"

"No, Weyrwoman! Please let me up, Klamath."

Lessa waited not so patiently as Klamath bounced aside and Mara stood. Once both faced her squarely and appropriately, she moved toward Klamath with a hand outstretched. When he allowed her to rub his muzzle, she spoke gently. "You should not do that to your rider, Klamath. You're growing fast and need to be careful with your increasing strength. Do you understand?"

_Yes, Lessa. I won't push her down any more. Did you see me fly?_

Lessa shook with suppressed laughter, but only smiled at the little brown. _Yes, I saw you fly! Can you keep a secret, Klamath?_

_Yes._

_Can you keep a secret from your rider?_

Klamath thought hard about this. He finally responded. _If you wish. But you know that she can hear you._

Lessa stood tall and looked around. She lowered her voice to keep anyone but Mara from hearing. Scratching her temple, she asked, "Are you listening to me?"

"No ma'am! I block you and Weyrleader F'lar out."

"Good." She turned back to Klamath. _This is our secret. I think _you_ will be one of the best brown dragons Benden Weyr has ever seen. But if you tell anyone else, they might feel bad. Can you keep that secret?_

Young Klamath bounced in place at the Weyrwoman's words. _Yes, Lessa! I can keep that secret._

Mara had grown suspicious when she could no longer hear Klamath's thoughts. When he started bouncing, she suspected Lessa was testing L'ret's claim that Klamath was capable of keeping was she encouraging him to keep a secret from his rider? Or, maybe just testing that ability? Having full trust in her Weyrleaders, she decided to not worry about it.

Marching exercises continued until all dragonet wings had been tested and analyzed. An outdoor class on wing structure was then attended by the entire class and their dragons. As little ones began to fade from fatigue, class was dismissed for nap time.

As the dragons slept in the sun, weyrlings attended yet another class, did chores or ran their missed laps of the bowl, and finally were marched to the Living Cavern for midday meal.

At the dining tables, tension between the weyrlings was high. Minor arguments broke out over whose dragon would be the best. It didn't take long for B'roghe to figure out what had happened – Lessa had told each of the little dragons she believed they would be one of the best in the Weyr. Dandreth, however, would not discuss what Lessa had told him. Before the end of the meal, all the weyrlings in this class were laughing at Lessa's test. Only a few – one in particular whose dragon had not been tested – wondered why Lessa would . . . not exactly lie, but pretty close, to all the dragonets. B'roghe cleared up that misunderstanding by asking for Lessa's exact wording. Very quickly, the weyrlings agreed with him that _all_ the dragons at Benden Weyr were the best, so each was indeed _one_ of the best.

After clearing the air between the weyrlings, B'roghe's curiosity niggled at him; was Dandreth the only little dragon who had kept Lessa's _secret_? That would be something to take pride in, but being a realist, the bronze weyrling could not quite accept that Dandreth was the only discreet dragonet in this class. Quiet discussion with others revealed that Biradeth, Saraneth and Klamath had also refused to tell their riders, or other dragons, Lessa's secret. B'roghe filed that information away for future use, but relished the pride he felt in Dandreth.

Harper training followed the meal. Mara was getting a little bored in the writing class being conducted by one of the Cavern women. She had each student writing their letters ten times each in small and capital letters – ten 'a's, ten 'A's, and so on. Mara had done that several times already during free time – though she had used a stick held like a carbon stick, and written in the dirt of the bowl – and was anxious to start writing words and sentences. As soon as the word 'boring' entered her mind, she scolded herself for being so impatient; at thirty-two turns, she should be grateful for any teaching.

The brown weyrling reached out – again – to check on the wellbeing of her sleeping brown dragon, who was sleeping peacefully. Shells, thought Mara.

From over her shoulder, without touching her, a familiar voice whispered, "The tail on the 'g' goes the other direction."

"What?"

T'men offered his most charming smile. "Unless you meant 'borink'?"

Mara looked at her writing slate and was shocked to see she had actually written – or tried to write – what she was thinking. She quickly used a small, soft hide scrap to wipe away her lapse of concentration.

"Good day, Wingleader T'men." The class instructor stood at the other side of the table, her expression unreadable. "How may we assist you, sir?"

"Lady Sarleen. Good day to you as well. My apologies for disrupting your class."

Mara watched the two converse ever so politely, and wondered; was T'men blushing? Or was he still feeling the effects of last night's wine? The sparkle in the cavern woman's eyes said they had some kind of shared history, but the pleasure Mara _heard_ from the woman had nothing to do with that history; Lady Sarleen was pleased to be able to make this man blush. Her thoughts revealed nothing more, other than interest in completing this writing lesson.

"Might I borrow this student for a short period, Lady Sarleen?" asked T'men most formally.

Sarleen had seen these dragonriders' earlier conversation and used this opportunity to learn more about it. "May I see your slate, Weyrling Mara?"

After another quick rub of the hide scrap, Mara handed the Lady her slate, hoping she could not make out what had been written.

"This is very good." Lady Sarleen actually looked impressed by the slate, but frowned at the bottom edge that had been wiped almost clean. "It looks as though you're ready for more than just letters, weyrling."

"I'm sorry Lady Sarleen. I . . ."

Sarleen smiled; she had succeeded in flustering the big woman. "No need to apologize, Mara. But I thought you didn't know how to write."

"I didn't until your classes, but Wingleader T'men taught me to read, so I . . . "

"You know how to read?"

"Not very well."

"Far better than one would expect after only three sevendays," corrected T'men.

Mara blushed at such high praise. "I had a good teacher."

"Well, you don't belong in this class, Weyrling Mara." The petite Lady graced Mara with a sweet smile. "You go with Wingleader T'men and I'll speak with Harper Selikar about moving you into a more appropriate class."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you."

Wingleader and weyrling walked in silence through the tunnel toward the interior of the Weyr bowl. Without even _listening_, Mara could feel T'men's dread of the coming conversation. She wished she could ease his worry, but wasn't sure how just yet. Maybe humor?

"So, is 'borink' a word?" It worked.

T'men chuckled and graced Mara with a grateful smile. "Look it up."

Mara twitched her nose at the man. "Yes, sir."

They walked a few dragon lengths along the wall of the bowl before T'men finally stopped and faced Mara. "I owe you an apology, Mara."

"For what?"

"My highly inappropriate behavior last night."

"You drank too much wine."

"That's no excuse for my behavior."

"You've been working too hard."

T'men shook his head. "That's no excuse. Mara, I sincerely apologize for asking such an inappropriate question."

Mara fought a grin. "You didn't ask me anything last night."

The bronze rider studied her face, and noticed the near grin. "But, I distinctly remember . . ."

"You asked L'ret."

T'men's jaw dropped. His eyes grew wide enough to see white all around the blue as his jaw began working, trying to say something intelligent. He broke into laughter as his eyes closed and his head dropped to his chest. When he finally looked at Mara, it was with a mottled red face. "Now I understand why all the brown riders I've passed this day have been winking at me. And I owe you a double apology, Mara."

"Because L'ret and I look so much alike?"

"Ha! You and L'ret look nothing alike, but I had a similar loss of visual accuracy once before after drinking so much. I should know better. Can you forgive me, Mara?"

Mara tried to don a pouty expression – not something she was familiar or comfortable with. "So you didn't mean it?"

"I did mean it, but that does not change the fact I never should have asked."

"Why?"

The humble man was about to answer when he caught a certain glint in the woman's eyes. "Why do I get the feeling you're teasing me?"

"Because you're such a smart man?"

T'men chuckled at her humorous flattery. "Oh, Mara. You're so much fun. Can you forgive me?"

"Can you tell me why you asked that question?"

There was no hint of humor in her request for information. If anything, thought T'men, she was offering to listen to whatever had prompted such inappropriate behavior. But, how could he tell her what he didn't even want to consider? "Being a bronze rider carries certain expectations."

"Like learning to lead?" When he nodded, she asked, "Like being a Wingleader?" Another nod. "And like wanting to be a Weyrleader?"

"Not all bronze riders want to be a Weyrleader."

"Why? As Weyrleader, you could make the Weyr run just the way you think it should."

"I'm perfectly content to follow another Weyrleader. And I'm happiest when I'm teaching."

"A Weyrleader could teach. A Weyrleader could do almost anything he wanted."

T'men shook his head. "The responsibilities . . . the obligations . . . all those lives depending on the right decisions from their leader."

Mara heard fear in his voice and his thoughts. He feared making the wrong decision and costing lives. "Doesn't F'lar ask advice from his Wingleaders? Or does he make his decisions without talking to anyone else?"

"Any good leader seeks advice from those around him. And F'lar is the best on Pern. And I'm sure Lessa has considerable input to his decisions." The man shook his head in regret.

"A good Weyrwoman would be a big help." T'men was no longer looking at Mara. Instead he gazed with something close to admiration over her shoulder. Mara turned and saw Saraneth walking regally toward the lake, Brendeen, Tianna and Biradeth on her other side.

"Saraneth really is a beautiful little queen," mused T'men out loud. "Reyuth likes talking to her."

"Her rider is just a beautiful."

T'men huffed in near disgust. "She's a spoiled brat, based on her actions at Benden's Hatching."

"Did you know she's had special Harper training?"

"All Holders' children get 'special' training."

"Did you know she and Master Mekelroy worked together before Ista?" That snapped his attention back to Mara. "She's a lot smarter than you might think, T'men."

"Really?"

Mara nearly laughed at the audacity of her friend's thoughts, but shook her head when he just as quickly squelched those thoughts with rules of etiquette and propriety. She gently backhanded his shoulder. "Let's see if they'd like help bathing their dragons."

T'men shook his head. "That would be highly improper."

"Why? You won't be alone and you will be watched, and if Saraneth doesn't want us there, we'll leave." T'men's almost wistful glance at the young golds did make her laugh. She took his hand in hers and pulled him toward the lake. She laughed again when she realized she didn't need to pull very hard.


	28. An Ethical Dilemma

So sorry for the long delay - again. Holidays! (Shudders uncontrollably)

* * *

Lessa chuckled as she leaned back against Ramoth's folded forepaw. She had been watching the goings-on in the bowl when she noticed Mara and T'men talking. As the woman pulled the man toward the lake, Benden's Weyrwoman was pleased that one brown weyrling was taking her special assignment so seriously, but hoped the woman's forcefulness wouldn't frighten T'men even more.

F'lar walked out of their shared weyr and smiled at the sight of his Lady relaxing and apparently enjoying something happening to the South. He kissed the top of her head before turning to see what was tickling his normally reserved weyrmate.

He stiffened immediately. "Is that _weyrling_ dragging my Wingleader?"

Lessa's smile disappeared as she wiped her brow in an overly dramatic gesture. "It's getting warm. Let's have some juice while we discuss _our_ weyrling and _our_ Wingleader, shall we?"

"Is she dragging him toward the lake, and _our_ youngest weyrwomen?"

Lessa took his arm and turned him back into their weyr. "Come along, dear. Too much bright sunlight can adversely affect your vision."

F'lar, curious now to see what his weyrmate was conniving, allowed himself to be guided to their little table deep inside the weyr. "Shall I add 'matchmaker' to your long list of accomplishments, my dear?"

"I'm hardly matchmaking, F'lar. I'm simply ensuring a smooth transition of power at Ista Weyr."

"By having Weyrling Mara introduce Wingleader T'men to Weyrling Brendeen? You know how improper that is, Lessa."

"Brendeen and Mara will keep it proper for Saraneth's sake. We need T'men to seriously consider G'dened's proposal sooner rather than later."

"G'dened's proposal?"

"_He_ believes it was his idea."

"So you're sweetening the pot by giving T'men a taste of the prize?"

Lessa glared at her now seated weyrmate while she considered a response less heated than impulse dictated. "T'men's only knowledge of Brendeen is from our last Hatching. Meeting her as she truly is should relieve his anxiety considerably."

As Lessa finished pouring juice, F'lar pulled her onto his lap. "Ah yes. Knowing the prize is worth the price always ensures better performance."

oOoOo

"Wait!" T'men tugged on Mara's arm until she stopped and turned. "You haven't answered me. Can you forgive my drunken behavior?"

"I can, but I can't speak for L'ret." She grinned at T'men's pained groan. "Don't worry. He was laughing about it last night. Come on, before someone else offers to help."

T'men allowed himself to be pulled along, knowing he would have to meet Brendeen sooner or later. Might as well learn all the facts of the situation before making a final decision. When he recognized the strange feeling he was experiencing as that of a young boy being dragged to meet yet another distant relative at a Gather, he pulled his hand out of Mara's, squared his shoulders and ran a hand over his probably messy hair.

When Brendeen turned around to greet Mara, T'men was shocked – quite pleasantly so – by the lovely young woman. She carried herself like the proper Lady of any of the best Holds, even while wearing stained, loose fitting work clothes and uncurled hair tied back with a hide strap. This could not possibly be the spoiled little girl he had seen at Benden's last Hatching. T'men grinned as the future Weyrwoman of Ista Weyr – if Caylith's choice was honored – invited Mara into a friendly hug. His reverie was interrupted when the young Lady turned to him.

"You must be Wingleader T'men." Brendeen held out her delicate hand for a formal handshake as she approached the bronze rider.

"I am, but how did you know?"

Brendeen smiled beautifully. "Number one: you have the tan of an Istan. Number two: any fool would recognize those amazing blue eyes all the ladies of the Weyr talk about. And number three: Saraneth told me you belong to Reyuth."

T'men had never been one to consider a person's physical appearance to be of any relevance – beyond cleanliness of course. Normally, any mention of his fortunate inheritance irritated his Harper sensibilities. So why was he blushing at the recognition of his admittedly unusual eyes by this girl with bright, sparkling green eyes?

Number three caused a burst of laughter as the tall man took the young Lady's hand. He bent low to deliver a kiss to said hand, but was stopped mid bow by a menacing growl from Saraneth. After a quick assessment of the situation, he merely nodded his head, squeezed and released her hand and quickly stood up straight.

"No, dear, he was not going to bite my hand." Brendeen spoke gently, but firmly to her young queen, but winked at T'men. "Were you, sir?"

T'men turned and bowed to the young gold. "Lovely Saraneth, I will never harm your precious rider. It is common for a man to kiss the hand of a lovely Lady as a sign of respect."

The tilt of the golden head indicated she might eventually accept his explanation. Her low growl indicated she hadn't just yet.

Mara bit her lips to maintain silence after _hearing_ the more private conversation between Brendeen and Saraneth. The little gold had feared T'men biting her rider, but had been bothered far more by the strange feeling in Brendeen's belly. The girl had tried to explain that it was nothing to worry about, but Saraneth was not convinced, and did not want her rider to risk any further such incidents.

"My apologies, Wingleader T'men. Saraneth is still . . . puzzled by yesterday's mating flight. She's not at all thrilled by the prospect of being chased."

"Are you?" asked T'men with embarrassingly uncharacteristic candor. One more reason, he scolded himself, he should never drink more than one glass of wine or ale. His self control was diminished far longer than a mere wine-head ever lasted.

Brendeen blushed. "Thrilled? No, but as a major Holder's daughter, I am at least accustomed to being chased."

Saraneth's growl grew in volume, effectively stopping T'men from pursuing this line of teasing. Perhaps the young gold's irritation was answer enough to whether her rider had ever been caught.

A quick defeated glance from T'men – and having heard his thoughts – caused Mara to quickly step in to save the man from embarrassing himself further. "Can we help you bathe Saraneth?" She turned quickly to Tianna. "And Biradeth?"

As Brendeen was still blushing at T'men, Tianna answered for both with a slightly haughty smirk. "Assistance is always appreciated."

The two young golds also approved, though Saraneth forced herself between her rider and T'men. Mara, at Tianna's suggestion, helped with Biradeth.

Biradeth's attendants kept quiet except for some obligatory compliments in regards to the gold's remarkable cooperation, and listened intently to the conversation occurring over Saraneth's back.

T'men was extremely cautious in his questioning of Brendeen, who gave sometimes veiled answers quickly followed by her own questions of the bronze rider. They quickly learned about family ties – though Brendeen's were fairly well known to anyone who kept up with Pern's elite – and soon moved on to likes and dislikes. T'men attempted to learn something about Brendeen's political beliefs, but changed the subject quickly when Saraneth began growling again. Apparently, thought T'men, something about politics – perhaps current situations on Pern? – bothered the young woman; he would have to learn more . . . later.

Klamath woke up about midway through the golds' baths and was thrilled to be invited to join them in the lake. He was hurt slightly when Mara didn't want to talk much, but soon found himself immersed in the conversation occurring around Saraneth and the thoughts his rider was hearing.

_Is this part of human mating?_ he asked innocently.

_Can we talk about this later, sweet heart?_

_Saraneth says her rider's belly feels strange, like yours does when Normond's rider is around. And the greens yesterday felt strange in the belly before they flew. Is it the same thing?_

_I guess it is, love._

_Are they going to mate? Can we watch?_

Mara caught Klamath's head in her hands and forced him to look at her instead of the pair scrubbing Saraneth. _They are not going to mate, Klamath! At least not for many, many months, if ever._

_Oh._ The excitement in the little brown's eyes faded. _My back itches._

_Then let's get to work, love._

_All right. But . . . We can talk about it later._

A highly refined form of giggling could be heard from the other side of Biradeth. Tianna's smile when she rose to look at Mara indicated her dragon had conveyed at least Klamath's side of that conversation. Biradeth, when her bath was complete, magnanimously allowed her rider to help bathe Klamath while Brendeen and T'men scrubbed and rescrubbed Saraneth, both seeming oblivious to their audience.

The conversation over the soon to be hide-less gold had moved on to where each had been and who they had met in their travels. T'men was still trying, indirectly, to determine Brendeen's political stance, and was hoping to learn more about her association with Mekelroy and any other Harpers. But Brendeen continued to be evasive, skipping over considerable details and changing the subject repeatedly.

T'men grew more and more frustrated with each change of subject, but fought to maintain his 'harper smile'. This girl seemed to know what he was looking for and was purposely avoiding giving it to him. Any other time, he might enjoy the game she was playing, but he needed to know far more about her before he even considered what G'dened had proposed and Benden's Weyrleaders strongly supported. That thought snapped him back closer to his normal self. He now realized his frustration was with his Weyrleaders, not the young girl he was speaking with.

As Klamath walked out of the lake after his thoroughly enjoyable scrubbing from two weyrlings, Saraneth stated firmly that she had not been dirty enough to warrant such a long bathing session. Brendeen apologized for being so easily distracted by such entertaining conversation, and they, with T'men, joined Tianna, Mara, and their dragons for a session with the oil rags.

Saraneth grew agitated rather quickly, declaring that 'that bronze rider' was obviously unfamiliar with proper oiling technique. She grew even more agitated when 'that bronze rider' joined her rider to learn the proper technique.

Mara fought a giggle – Tianna lost her similar battle – as Brendeen apologetically suggested T'men stand back – way back - and watch.

T'men, unaware of Brendeen's 'belly' problem, brooded – though he did maintain his practiced smile - about what was bothering Saraneth. He needed to know so much more about the young gold rider. Why was Saraneth making it so difficult? And, how old was this young lady? She had avoided that question with a firm conviction that she was old enough to make her own decisions. The way she stated that little fact hinted that she was barely over sixteen Turns. Her other answers, though – those she actually provided – hinted at far more life experience.

As oiling was completed, weyrlings and their dragons were called into marching formation. T'men caught up with Mara as she and Klamath were about to join their class. He pulled her aside, out of hearing of the other weyrlings. "Does she know what they have planned for us?" he asked almost as if talking to himself. He continued without even waiting for an answer. "What does she think of those plans? What does she think of me? Is there any chance this could work as well as they think it will?" He searched Mara's distraught face. "She never answered most of my questions. The future of Ista Weyr depends on this, Mara. The future of Pern depends on what she's thinking."

Mara's jaw dropped. Why would T'men ask her such things? "T'men, I can't tell you what Brendeen's thinking." The desperation on his normally calm and calming face prompted a repeat. "I can't, T'men."

The bronze rider closed his eyes and clenched his jaw and fists. Of course, she couldn't tell what Brendeen was thinking; that would make this decision far too easy. But he had to know so many things about the young gold rider before he made such a life altering decision.

Mara watched her friend in a state of shock. He was angry! At her! For not telling what someone else was thinking? T'men had been at that meeting with Masterharper Sebell – had that really been less than a month ago? – and had seemed to agree that this 'gift' – what a false label that was – could be an invasion of peoples' privacy. How could he think she would share Brendeen's private thoughts? "T'men, she's not thinking anything bad . . . about any of this."

T'men didn't catch her attempted hint. He shook his head, turned and walked away.

Mara wanted to stop him, to make him understand, to make him stop worrying, but what would he do? He was so angry. Would he hit her? And what could she say that wouldn't violate Brendeen's privacy. What was wrong with T'men?

"Mara!"

L'ret's bellow caused the weyrling to jump. As she turned to respond, she nearly tripped over Klamath. The little brown watched her intently with orange infused orbs.

_Why is he mad at you?_

_I don't know, love. But we'd better get back to work. We'll have to think about this later._

_Reyuth says his rider's head isn't right. What does that mean?_

Mara chuckled as they watched for a spot in the formation. _That means he's not thinking straight. That's not at all like T'men. Here we go. Now._

The brown and his rider moved smoothly into the back of the formation. Both put T'men to the back of their minds as they marched through more and more complicated maneuvers with the rest of the weyrlings. Both enjoyed the increasing challenge of maintaining their proper positions as random weyrlings were called to go _between_ at some unusual stages of the exercise.

When all the weyrlings and their dragons had joined the formation and been through several of the new movements, L'ret called a halt. He then introduced them to a new formation - 'guard the golds' – in which the two gold weyrlings and their dragons were placed at the center of the formation. As weyrlings were called to go _between_, all the others had to move around the golds to fill in vacant positions, always keeping the two golds 'guarded' from anything outside the formation. This would help the weyrlings and their young dragons develop more awareness of what was happening around them.

L'ret, a patient teacher – even if he didn't often display that personality trait – allowed the weyrlings to fumble their position changes somewhat before introducing rules regarding who should fill in a space, depending on where the vacancy occurred. He was well pleased with this class's progress by the time little dragons began dragging with fatigue.

After all the youngest dragons were napping soundly, L'ret called the newest weyrlings to watch the next older class practice self-defense. The session was quite mild, as the older weyrling's dragons had only recently begun to understand that practice was not really fighting, and that the full riders 'attacking' their riders meant no harm and were indeed doing their riders a great favor by teaching them to protect themselves. Weyrlings were now learning to adjust their thought processes as well; anger or fear would only incite their lifemates, so they were learning to appreciate and enjoy this particular lesson.

Mara was fascinated by the whole session; both by the physical movements and the mental adjustments the more experienced weyrlings were making, some with more difficulty than others. The older riders would throw slow punches and charge the weyrlings with silly grins on their faces, and even trip the weyrlings, catching them before they hit the ground. It wasn't difficult to pick out those weyrlings needing help with their emotions, even without hearing their thoughts. Only a few of the weyrlings needed to be taken aside – often with a full rider's arm over their shoulders – to discuss their attitudes and the purpose of self-defense exercises.

Unknown to Mara, or any of the weyrlings, was that the older riders would shift their attentions between the 'problem' weyrlings. When a helpful word or phrase caused the desired shift in a weyrling's perception of the exercise, the riders would share that information with the others and of course, the Weyrlingmaster. This group of full riders was experienced in helping L'ret teach self-defense, and self-control. Among them were G'regg, B'nor and G'raden.

Mara made every effort possible to avoid looking at G'raden as he moved to work with a young green weyrling. She couldn't resist smiling when he did his monster impression, so much like her first meeting with Normond. She worried when the small boy nearly screamed, apparently unaccustomed to such playfulness from such a large man. She quickly found need to fight a bout of jealous envy though when G'raden led the tearful boy away from the group with his big arm laid carefully over small, trembling shoulders. Oh, how she wished that arm could lie across her shoulders.

_Why are you sad?_

_I thought you were sleeping!_

_I'm not as tired as Mynth and Nayrith and Gredarth. That big bronze rider doesn't scare you?_

Mara huffed in her thoughts. _Which big bronze rider?_

Klamath returned her huff. _Normond's rider._

_No, my love, G'raden doesn't scare me. Does he scare you?_

Again Klamath huffed. _My teeth are already bigger than his, and sharper._

_You would bite a bronze rider?_

_If he ever hurts you, I would!_

_Oh, brave Klamath. I don't think G'raden would ever hurt anyone._

The little brown huffed without humor as he shifted position to gain better advantage of the warm, sleep-promoting sunshine, and was very soon asleep.

Mara scolded herself for not watching her thoughts closer, and then excused herself; Klamath had been deep asleep. She reviewed her thoughts and feelings, and believed neither to have been strong enough to have roused her precious little lifemate. Was he growing out of the need for long, deep naps? When did little dragons normally stop taking naps? She decided to ask L'ret later, or perhaps L'terick or K'remin if either stood watch this night.

The self-defense lessons continued for about a candle-mark. On occasion, L'ret would halt everyone to ask a weyrling and his accompanying rider to repeat an especially good move for all in both classes to watch and learn.

Mara and B'roghe enjoyed watching Cally and D'don bounce in place, so excited were they to try some of the moves smaller people could use against larger. B'roghe had to promise to show them later some of the moves, but only in the most playful way; he did not wish to incur the wrath of either of their dragons, small as they were. Angalyn seemed bothered by the entire concept of fighting, play or not. She did agree with B'roghe though, that self-defense was a good thing for anyone to learn.

After a short lecture on how practice fighting might affect young dragons and the signs weyrlings should watch for to protect their lifemates, all the weyrlings were dismissed to work on their afternoon chores. The Istan weyrlings were all, with a couple of others, assigned to assist a Lower Caverns woman with deep cleaning one of the ground level weyrs.

After scrubbing all the walls, the ceiling – with the use of ladders – and the floors, the Istans were very tired and ready for the evening meal and hopefully some free time.

Mara was easily distracted from thoughts of T'men by sometimes animated discussions about the self-defense class and friendly banter about whose dragon would _really_ fly first. The food seemed rather bland to the brown weyrling, though most of the other weyrlings returned for second portions. B'roghe, worried about her unusual lack of appetite, tried to tempt Mara into eating more by challenging her to list the herbs Manora had used. When she still refused seconds, all the weyrlings joined in teasing her for _not_ eating more than everyone else. Mara took it in stride, saying she was just leaving more for them for a change.

As the evening meal came to an end, a commotion drew the weyrlings' attention to the other side of the massive cavern. A long line of riders passed the table T'men sat at, each one dropping a skin of wine in front of him. T'men sat shaking his head while all the riders on that side of the room howled with laughter.

"What's happening?" asked Cally.

"A little joke," answered B'roghe. To Mara, who looked almost as confused as Cally, he added for her ears only, "Look at their knots."

Indeed, each of the riders – green, blue, brown and bronze alike – made a point of dropping their wine skin with their 'brown rider' shoulder knots clearly visible to T'men.

Mara was horrified. She hadn't told anyone about last night, so wondered who had. How could they tease T'men like that? He was already embarrassed about the incident. Why grind his nose in it? She sought out L'ret, and much to her dismay found him chuckling at the parade.

L'ret noticed the weyrling's disbelieving glare. _How a rider handles friendly teasing says a lot about his or her leadership potential. Watch, listen and learn._

Mara was shocked. Her Weyrlingmaster approved of this? Could he have even set this up? She searched out T'men in the babble of excited thoughts filling the cavern and reaching all the way to the kitchens and even the Living Cavern. She did happen to notice that most of the thoughts she waded through were indeed friendly, not mean. When she finally located T'men, she relaxed considerably. He was of course embarrassed by so much attention over such poor judgment, but equally relieved the people of this Weyr were so forgiving of his less than stellar behavior. And this little joke would remind him always to be far more careful with his wine consumption. Above all else running through his mind, was an immense joy at having been accepted by the people of Benden Weyr – as a rider, as a man with faults, and as a friend.

As the last man dropped his wineskin on the huge teetering pile before T'men, and joined all the others lined up for full inspection by the deeply blushing Wingleader – some even standing on the next row of tables for their share of attention – Wingleader G'regg bellowed for all to hear.

"So, bronze rider, who will you offer the pleasure of your bed this night?"

Laughter once again echoed through the cavern as each of the men preened or posed or gyrated in competition for T'men's attention. The noise subsided when T'men stood to properly inspect the line of men.

After a formal bow, he addressed the assembled riders. "You good men honor me, but I fear I'll need at least three of these skins in my belly before I can even consider your offers."

An impatient green rider spoke for all. "Well, drink up man! The night's a wasting!"

Another round of robust laughter ended only after T'men raised his arms to regain their attention. "As tempting as your offers are, I must regretfully decline." It took a bit longer to quiet the grumbles. "We do fly Thread tomorrow after all."

After successfully deflecting reminders that Thread wasn't until after midday, T'men convinced the assembled men – all of whom pretended irreparable dejection – to retrieve their wine skins and get some rest for tomorrow's chores.

The men filed out of the Dining Cavern with long faces and slumped shoulders, causing T'men to shake his head while laughing so hard tears clouded his eyes. When only three skins remained on the table, G'regg, B'nor and G'raden each picked up one and they herded their 'new brother' out of the Cavern.

Mara was thrilled that T'men had handled the teasing so well, and that he was feeling accepted by his fellow riders. She was also relieved that she wouldn't have to speak with him again this evening; G'raden and his friends would keep him occupied, and not by drinking from those skins, she was sure.

As the weyrlings were filed out of the Cavern, L'ret _spoke_ to Mara. _Learn anything?_

_Yes, sir. T'men feels accepted now._

A chuckle came through the link. _The highest honor a rider can receive is _friendly_ teasing from fellow riders over minor faults._

_Yes, sir!_

"Mara! Step out of line!" _You stay here. Our Weyrleaders would like to speak with you._

_Yes, sir._ Mara sidestepped and walked toward L'ret at the rear of the line.

As the last of the weyrlings left the Cavern, L'ret nodded at Mara and followed his students.

Mara turned to find the Weyrleaders sitting alone at the long, raised head table. When Lessa smiled and motioned her to join them, she nodded back and made her way around the table. As she walked, Lessa asked one of the kitchen workers for a glass of water. As she took the offered seat between F'lar and Lessa, F'lar told the worker delivering water that they would like to be undisturbed for awhile.

Lessa started the conversation. "How did the meeting between T'men and Brendeen go?"

The question seemed so innocent, but Mara suddenly felt trapped between her Weyrleaders. Would they push for details of Brendeen's thoughts? "It went good, Lessa. I don't think either of them dislikes the other."

F'lar continued the questioning with his head resting on two fingers at his temple. "You don't know for sure?"

Mara caught the strong hint, and felt even more trapped. "They both have lots of questions. I think they'll be friends at least once they get to talk more."

"What kind of questions?" asked Lessa.

Mara snapped her head away from F'lar's severe expression to face Lessa. What could she say without violating either's thoughts? "T'men doesn't know yet how old Brendeen is."

"Anything else?" asked F'lar.

Mara turned slowly to face the man, and found her movement to be rather shaky. "Not that I can talk about, sir."

"Why not?" asked Lessa with a hint of impatience.

The brown weyrling wasn't quite able to fully face her Weyrwoman. She looked at the wine glass Lessa held instead. "Anything more came from their private thoughts, Lessa."

F'lar grinned at his weyrmate, but wiped the grin away before sounding rather annoyed. "Surely, you can at least give us some helpful hints, Weyrling."

Mara tried to turn, but didn't manage to look past her glass of water. When she tried to grasp the glass, her hand trembled, so she placed both hands in her lap. "They seemed to enjoy their talk, sir. And I think they'll get along really good if they can talk more. Sar . . ." The woman grimaced at a near violation of Brendeen's privacy.

"Saraneth?" asked Lessa. "What about Saraneth?"

Mara mentally kicked herself; why was she so slow? "Saraneth didn't seem to like T'men being too close to Brendeen."

"Why?" asked F'lar, grinning at the weyrling's lowered head even as he continued to sound irritated.

"I can't say, sir." Oh, how she was tempted to listen to her Weyrleaders' thoughts just now. But she did not.

"Why?" pushed F'lar, though he didn't sound quite as angry.

Surely, F'lar and Lessa remembered the meeting with Masterharper Sebell! Mara was embarrassed when her voice sounded so weak when she answered. "That would be a violation of Brendeen's privacy, sir."

"Look at me Mara," said Lessa gently.

Mara turned her head and was surprised to see Lessa smiling kindly.

"We won't ask you to violate anyone's privacy, dear. We're satisfied with your assessment of their compatibility."

F'lar's throat clearing didn't sound very agreeable to Lessa's statement. "One has to wonder, though," began Benden's Weyrleader, "if ethics shouldn't be stretched somewhat in certain circumstances."

Lessa put a hand on the weyrling's arm to keep her from turning. Her eyes sparkled as she asked, "Did Brendeen have a physical reaction to T'men's closeness?"

Much more relaxed now, Mara battled this ethical dilemma only briefly before remembering what she had seen with her eyes: Brendeen had wriggled a bit more than normal, and she had held her hand at her belly longer than normal several times. "It looked like she did. And Saraneth's actions seem to hint that she did."

"Good!" Lessa's whole face lit up. "That's a good start."

"Oh, be realistic, Lessa," grumbled F'lar. "That could just as likely be a residual aftereffect of yesterday's mating flight."

"Quite possible," agreed Lessa, but her confident smile suggested she believed otherwise.

The Weyrleaders kept Mara for a short while longer, questioning her on what she had seen and heard – with her ears – during the introduction of Ista's next Weyrwoman to Wingleader T'men. When Klamath began to stir, Mara was excused, but only after F'lar repeated his pondering thought on the elasticity of ethics.

As she trotted toward the lake – not even noticing how easy trotting had become over the last few sevendays – Mara wondered if she should have mentioned T'men asking about Brendeen's thoughts. No, she decided, she did not want to cause trouble for T'men, and he was probably still feeling the effects of too much wine last night. But still, should the Weyrleaders be made aware of how too much wine affected a Wingleader?

Klamath's partially awake concern stopped that line of thought. Mara cheerfully took care of her little brown darling along with all the other weyrlings in her class.

After bathing, oiling, partial feeding for some, a lengthy play session and a final feeding, the little dragons settled into their assigned weyrs or quarters for a well-earned night of sound sleep. Weyrlings were given free time for the last candle-mark of the day, but reminded that the next day would involve preparing for and then dealing with Thread. There would be little time for personal needs, so this candle-mark should be used accordingly.

The Istans, and several other weyrlings, decided to use their free time for washing out laundry. The washing troughs in the Living Caverns were typically left unused in the evenings, with weyrlings' schedules partially in mind. A few other riders chose to do their own laundry at the troughs, but most non-riders used their evenings for less labor intensive activities.

B'roghe – who had apparently appointed himself Angalyn's personal bodyguard, mused Mara – and several of his young, admiring followers accompanied the Istans. The handsome young man who could have been a Lord Holder was well accustomed to having even younger people flock around him, what with all his cousins, nieces and nephews, and younger brothers and sisters at Fort Hold, and made even washing laundry an enjoyable endeavor for all involved.

Once they had returned to the weyrling area, B'roghe and his followers joined the Istans for their now ritual pre-bedtime discussion. Mara grew silent as the others tried to agree on a topic for this evening's discussion.

B'roghe, having been aware most of the afternoon that Mara had something on her mind, called a halt to the discussion of their topic of choice. "When's the last time Mara choose a topic?"

Everyone thought hard. Angalyn smiled as she answered. "She always lets us decide. I think it's her turn." Everyone else quickly agreed.

Mara frowned at the bronze weyrling, but quickly realized that maybe these youngsters could actually help with her dilemma, even if they didn't know the details. "All right. Yesterday, in class, we were introduced to dragonrider ethics."

Moans from some of the weyrlings caused Mara to pause. B'roghe's reminder that ethics were an extremely important part of being dragonriders prompted agreement that this would be an acceptable topic.

"We all know from yesterday that ethics tell us how we are and are not supposed to act," began Mara. "But, are there any times when ethics can be overlooked even a little? Can they be stretched in some cases?"

Several weyrlings responded with a 'yes' while several others adamantly declared 'no'. And then Cally said, "Wouldn't that depend on the situation?"

The debate began in earnest. B'roghe smiled at Mara as they both watched and listened, and stepped in to answer direct questions or to redirect potential hard feelings. Far too soon, in everyone's opinion, K'remin called an end to the discussion, declaring it time for glows to be turned.

As visiting weyrlings filed out of the Istan weyr, B'roghe held back and questioned Mara.

"Did you get the answer you were hoping for?"

Mara huffed at the young man. "I got lots more to think about."

"Can I help? Do you want to talk a little more?"

B'roghe's honest concern touched Mara. "I wish I could talk about it." B'roghe's understanding nod was a relief; at least he would not push for any details. "You never answered the question though. That might help."

"Ahh. You caught that. I was more interested in their answers." Mara's attempted patience made him chuckle. "Very well. Can ethics be stretched in certain cases?" He took a deep breath as he studied the anxious woman before him. "If a person blurs the ethical line in one case, why not in others? And if the line should be crossed, how would a person reestablish that line? And how could that person convince others of their ethical behavior if they cross that line even once?"

Mara's jaw fell lax as she listened. When he raised his eyebrows, signaling he was done, she laughed. "You make it sound so simple!"

"It can be that simple . . . sometimes. Sometimes though, it can be very difficult to maintain one's ethical standards. The important questions are: where are _your_ standards, and how blurry is _your_ line between good and bad ethical behavior?"

Mara nodded once, slowly, and then smiled. "Even more to think about, but very helpful. Thank you, B'roghe."

B'roghe bowed slightly. "My pleasure, Mara. Sleep well." He left the Istan weyr wondering just where Brown Rider Mara would draw her lines. Somehow though, he knew he would find out soon enough.

Long after her weyrmates fell asleep, Mara was still reviewing what B'roghe had said. He was interested in others' answers. He didn't say what was absolutely right or wrong; he was just interested in their answers. Did that mean there really wasn't a right or wrong answer? Or did the weyrlings' answers tell B'roghe something he wanted to know about each of them? She reviewed each weyrling's answers again, and quickly realized those answers were closely related to dragon color. The green riders were most adamant that 'it depends', while the blue riders were less adamant but still said 'it depends'. The only other brown weyrling was closer to 'absolutely not', and the other very young – so age wasn't an issue – bronze weyrling was very adamant about the non-stretchiness of ethics in any case.

So, deduced Mara, perhaps the firmness of one's ethical standards said something about a rider's leadership potential? Or maybe just their trustworthiness?

She spent a good deal more time in the dark weyr trying to decide where her lines should be drawn. And wished she could speak to G'raden or T'men – maybe not T'men just yet – in greater depth about dragonrider ethics.

* * *

Reviews are always greatly appreciated!

Hope you enjoy the story!


	29. Dilemmas Solved?

So sorry for the long delay: I had a bit of a dilemma with this chapter – see below.

* * *

Mara slept fitfully that night, waking several times from memory dreams. The first had been of hearing her mother's plea that she take care of her brothers and father, followed by a picture of F'lar's surprised response to the fact she had done so for twenty-five Turns. She woke from that dream trying to remember her mother's face, but as always, the picture faded quickly, leaving her with the soothing, but incomplete memory of unconditional love.

Another dream recalled an incident on the docks of Keroon. A group of dock workers had nearly come to blows over who would unload and reload a small trading vessel, one of very few at the docks that day. While they argued, Mara had begun the work while her father negotiated the price. Being in a hurry to move out before threatening weather hit, the captain had also hired several other workers. When a much larger, richer vessel moved into the bay though, the men left knowing they would receive higher wages from the better established captain. Mara had unloaded and reloaded the small vessel by herself, offloading boxes of tools and other supplies and reloading bags of grain and bales of grain stalks, despite considerable grief from her father and the arrival of a brief but fierce storm. It had taken all day, but the captain was so grateful for Marat's help – Mara was known as mute Marat at that time – he had given her all the wages set aside for the work plus a generous bonus which he strongly urged her to keep for herself, though he, like everyone else on the docks believed her to be a man.

Those dreams, Mara decided, served as a reminder that she already had good ethical standards, even under some duress. Knowing that, and realizing her Weyrleaders had guided her to a more acceptable way of denying her _hearing_ _skills,_ Mara finally slept soundly. Unless what she _heard_ in her mind could be considered dangerous, she would only speak of what she heard with her ears and saw with her eyes. She knew there would be exceptions – like interpreting T'men's harper trained, diplomatic rendition of events at Ista Weyr. What was happening at Ista Weyr was all of Pern's concern, she reasoned, and she had not revealed T'men's most personal thoughts, like the hurt he still felt over Sansheena's leaving him and now thinking she could simply resume their previous, problematic relationship. Mara now felt more comfortable with the line she had drawn - a line that might be stretched and readjusted as she learned more about this skill and more about how her Weyrleaders might wish to use it. The foundation at least was now set firmly in her mind.

As she rolled off her cot to begin what promised to be another long, tiring day, Mara suddenly realized her bones were not popping and cracking as much as they had almost a month ago. She smiled at the thought and clung fiercely to the joy of that realization. She sat on the edge of the dragons' couch for a while and admired Klamath among his clutch-mates, noticing new dry patches that would need oil as soon as he woke. She dressed for the day, took care of morning personal duties and nodded at K'remin as she left the small weyr.

She walked a short way with a long, muscle stretching stride, and then began to run. It was getting easier by the day, now that her muscles no longer complained about unfamiliar activity. She still couldn't run the full circumference of the bowl, but she was getting closer every day. She had to be careful this day; her head felt mushy from a shortage of sleep, and her eyes felt dry, scratchy and puffy, as if she'd been crying. She couldn't remember ever having trouble sleeping; she'd always been able to fall asleep quickly in the past. But then, she'd never had anything much to think about before she came to Benden Weyr.

As she approached Lessa's weyr, she imagined one day running to the top of those steps, running back down, and continuing to run a full lap. And one day she would run a second lap!

As she approached the Hatching Grounds she _heard_ Normond speaking with his rider. The big bronze was excited about searching for the wild beast herds around Benden Mountain. G'raden reminded him not to hunt – they had to fly Thread later today – but Normond was undaunted; the search now would make the hunt later that much easier. Mara continued to listen as the bronze and his rider dropped from their weyr, flew up and over the Weyr ridge and landed on the road just outside the crater that formed Benden Weyr. G'raden would do his morning run on the road to Benden Hold while Normond searched the surrounding area for his evening meal.

She swerved to miss a youngster running out of the Dining Cavern carrying two empty blackstone buckets and waved at a smiling kitchen worker as she passed.

Dragons and riders throughout the Weyr were waking with the lightening of the sky, and a feeling of excited anticipation overrode all. Mara _heard_ when the sweep riders left the Weyr to observe weather patterns this day, and _heard_ the hopes for calm skies and an easy Fall.

Pern's first woman brown rider made it just past the entrance to the Healer's Cavern before she had to slow to a fast walk. Her legs would have gone farther, she was thrilled to realize, but her breathing was too fast according to L'ret's criteria; she had to take a breath before the final spoken syllable of "Dragonrider". By her reckoning, based on a map of the bowl L'ret had shown her and on where she actually started running, the entrance to the Healer's Cavern was the halfway point of her run. So she had run past the halfway mark this day!

As she walked, _listening_ to the Weyr wake and begin preparations for Thread, Brendeen ran up alongside Mara.

"Good day, Mara!" The young gold weyrling looked lovely and cheerful, even with a bit of sweat on her brow. She slowed to a walk and kept pace with her friend.

"Good day, Brendeen! Nice morning for a run, don't you think?"

"Perfect, but then any day without snow or ice is perfect for running."

"Does Keroon Hold get snow and ice?" Mara had never seen either, but the Hold was a bit further inland than anywhere she had ever lived.

"No, but I fostered at Ruatha one winter." She shivered dramatically. "One of the worst winters they remembered."

On the walk toward the lake, they discussed the forthcoming winter in Benden Weyr. Brendeen had heard that when the air was too cold, many people ran through the tunnels for their daily exercise. Neither was too sure how they would bathe their dragons in the frigid mountain air. Both decided to wait and see; dragonriders had taken care of such things for centuries, and neither had ever heard of any riders freezing to death while caring for their dragons.

Brendeen changed the subject rather abruptly, but hesitantly. "You don't look like you slept very well."

"Ah." Mara smiled, and thought about how to hedge the truth, but realized she only needed to leave out certain facts. "I spent too much time thinking."

"About what?"

"Ethics."

"Ahh. That keeps me from sleeping many nights as well."

"I never had to think about it much on the docks; just did what seemed right. I didn't even know the word."

"The word isn't as important as the practice. Anything you want to talk about?" On seeing Mara's slight panic, she added, "Running ideas by someone else sometimes helps clarify details."

Mara wanted desperately to talk to someone about her problematic skill, but she had promised her Weyrleaders, so responded sadly. "No. Thank you for the offer to help, but I can't talk about it."

Brendeen's face scrunched in a very little-girlish manner. "Secrets can be such a pain, can't they?" Just as abruptly, her manner changed to that of a proper lady. "I need to finish my run. Wouldn't want to taunt L'ret so early in the day." With a wink, she took off, running as efficiently and effortlessly as any of the seasoned dragonriders.

Mara watched the young woman with envy. How had she learned to run like that? Surely as Lord Holder Kashman's daughter, she had been rather pampered. She had certainly seemed overly pampered at Benden's last Hatching! And the way she changed so quickly to spoiled little girl and then back to serious weyrwoman? Mara was thrilled when the word 'enigma' came to mind. Brendeen was a true enigma, and Mara was excited to learn more about this clutch-mate – if only they had more free time.

oOoOo

The morning's first weyrling class was a discussion of the day's Thread Fall duty assignments. The various duties would be a bit more difficult each Fall due to the dragonets being awake for longer hours. Weyrlings would need to work out sharing their attentions with still needy – though less so with each passing day in most cases – little dragons while completing necessary tasks.

During the discussion, L'ret became slightly distracted. He then looked suspiciously at the only female brown weyrling in the room, and barked. "Mara!"

"Yes sir!"

"Council Chambers! Now!"

"Yes sir!"

As several weyrlings snickered at the perceived punishment, Cally stood quickly and nearly screeched. "What'd she do?"

L'ret glared at the young green weyrling and did not wink this time. "Not your concern, Weyrling. Now, the rest of you . . . PAY ATTENTION!"

Mara put a hand on the girl's shoulder as she stood. When Cally looked at her, Mara gave her the wink L'ret normally would have. This soothed the girl enough that she nodded as she pursed her lips into a lopsided smirk.

D'don and Angalyn looked worriedly at their weyrmate and B'roghe raised his eyebrows in question at her. Mara gave them all an unsure smile and a shrug before turning to leave the classroom.

She ran the entire distance to the base of Lessa's stairs, enjoying the increased speed and decreased discomfort. She walked up the stairs, bowed as she greeted Ramoth, and walked cautiously through the hallway to the Chambers. As she walked, she could hear F'lar and Lessa, T'men, and Masterharper Sebell speaking. Just before she reached for the knocking stone, Lessa pulled back the curtain and smiled up at her.

"Come in, dear." Lessa led the way and pointed to the chair Mara should take. After the weyrling gave proper greetings to all present, Lessa said, "We were having a discussion about you and thought it only fair that you should be present."

"Ahh, thank you." A blush threatened to color her face; she still wasn't comfortable being the focus of anyone's attention, let alone so many important people.

"My good friend T'men visited me this morning." Sebell sounded a bit irritated, but smiled. "Well before the morning meal, I might add. Would you like to tell her why, T'men?"

Bronze Rider T'men looked a bit like a boy being punished for misbehaving. He scowled at Sebell and then smiled sheepishly at Mara. "I am truly embarrassed about my behavior these last two days, Mara. And I sincerely apologize for any discomfort I might have caused you."

Mara put her hand out on the table, accepting his apology and offering her friendship, and unfortunately causing T'men's eyes to moisten almost to a tearful state as he took her hand in his.

"We'll not offer wine to this Wingleader again, I assure you." F'lar's statement caused chuckling all around the table.

"And I hope I'll be strong enough to refuse any excessive offers in the future," appended T'men.

"The reason we asked you to join us, Mara . . ." F'lar sounded extremely serious even as his eyes betrayed a bit of mischief. ". . . is your decision to withhold information from a Wingleader."

Mara was stunned, but faced F'lar squarely. "What I didn't tell T'men, sir, had nothing to do with Weyr duties, or Thread, or . . ."

F'lar interrupted sternly. "It does have to do with the future leadership of Ista Weyr, and therefore the stability of all the Weyrs of Pern."

"But, he was asking about personal thoughts, sir – things no one would ever know normally. And I did try to hint that he shouldn't worry."

"You did?" asked T'men. "I don't recall."

"I told you she wasn't thinking anything bad. I guess that wasn't a very good hint."

T'men blinked slowly. "It was a perfect hint, Mara. I just didn't hear it. I'm sorry."

"For what it's worth . . ." Sebell eyed F'lar with some challenge before continuing to Mara. "T'men and I agree that you chose wisely, Mara. Private thoughts, no matter how much they _might_ benefit Pern's future, should remain private."

"And we both agree, dear." Lessa held F'lar's hand as she spoke for both of them. "What Brendeen was thinking during her first meeting with T'men should remain private. Budding romance should never be tampered with."

T'men nearly choked at the last statement. When everyone looked his direction, some with smiles and some suppressing laughter, he blushed, shook his head and smiled at his own naivety.

Lessa spoke in the direction of the closed curtain. "Brendeen, will you join us, dear?"

The beautiful young gold weyrling – though she still wore weyrling's work garb – stepped through the curtain with a girlish grin. She nodded at each person at the table and blushed when she reached T'men.

Lessa patted the table to her right. "Sit here, dear. Let's try to avoid agitating Saraneth."

"She _is_ sleeping, Lessa."

"But not as soundly as a couple of sevendays ago. Let's not risk disturbing her."

"Yes, Lessa."

Now Mara understood why she hadn't been offered her usual seat; Brendeen was to be under Lessa's watchful attention, especially with T'men in the room. Mara was extremely curious now about the purpose of this meeting. The girl's thoughts were hidden somehow and all Mara could pick up was humor and excitement.

As Brendeen took her assigned seat, Sebell spoke. "There is another reason for this meeting." He paused to smile at T'men's sigh of relief. "After learning of Mara's skill at hearing dragons _and people_, I imposed upon several other Master Harpers to conduct some discreet research. T'men's suggestion that your skills might be the result of evolution intrigued me, so I've asked certain Harpers to inform me of any children, or adults, who display any extraordinary perception abilities. As it turns out, Mara, you are not the only person on Pern with exceptional hearing skills."

"Really? Who? Where? How many?" Mara did blush now at her impetuous questions.

Sebell and T'men laughed at the weyrling's excited questions. F'lar seemed rather annoyed and Lessa just smiled. Brendeen, however, beamed with poorly disguised excitement.

Sebell finally answered her questions. "Really? Yes. Am I truly known for telling falsehoods?"

"Oh, no sir!"

"'Who' is still highly proprietary information, with one exception to be discussed momentarily. Where? These skilled people are turning up all across Pern, but are understandably extremely hesitant to be discovered, so, unfortunately, we don't know just how many such people exist."

Mara had so many more questions, but reminded herself that she was still just a weyrling and really didn't have the right to take up so much of the Masterharper's time. This meeting was likely for the benefit of the Weyrleaders far more than for her. But she was truly excited at the prospect of not being the only person on Pern who could hear others' thoughts. She was not alone!

"No, you are not alone, Mara," said Brendeen. When her friend gasped, she grinned. "And I'm sure F'lar and Lessa were aware of this situation before this meeting, so you do indeed have the right to question the Masterharper." She looked at Sebell, F'lar and then Lessa. "Am I correct, sirs? Ma'am?"

Sebell smiled broadly as F'lar nodded agreement.

Lessa spoke for all. "Absolutely! Brendeen informed us this morning that you were losing sleep over this 'skill', Mara. When T'men brought the Masterharper to us, it seemed the timing was perfect to share this information. You've enough unique attributes to set you apart from the rest of us already, dear. We don't ever want you to feel an outsider at Benden Weyr."

Mara was so choked with tears of gratitude and relief, she managed only a nod of thanks to Lessa.

Brendeen stood to hug her friend, and only then noticed that T'men was as pale as a freshly washed bed sheet. As she patted and rubbed Mara's back, she questioned the man. "Are you all right, Wingleader T'men?"

T'men paled even further, but looked into Brendeen's green eyes. "It seems I owe you an apology as well, Lady Brendeen."

"Whatever for, sir?" Brendeen released Mara and stood straight.

"My thoughts at the lake yesterday were far from proper. I sincerely . . ."

"Your thoughts, Wingleader, were far closer to proper than those of any of the suitors my father arranged. And you were unaware of this 'skill', so will not be held accountable for my eavesdropping." She placed her hands on her hips. "And everyone has improper thoughts from time to time, so do not even attempt to edit your thoughts, sir, because even that can be detected if I'm paying attention. A person's thoughts are _not_ always indicative of their actions and not even of their beliefs; they are merely a necessary part of the human decision making process. Is that understood, sir?"

T'men's color had improved considerably with each word of the little weyrling's speech. He now almost grinned as he studied those flashing green eyes. "Quite understood, My Lady."

"Good." Brendeen allowed Lessa to pull her back into her chair, but still glared at T'men, thanks to Mara having scooted her chair back to stay out of the middle of this confrontation. "I am not a firebrand, Wingleader! I am a realist! Anyone with this 'skill' who took all thoughts seriously would soon go insane."

T'men nodded his understanding as others at the table stifled laughter.

"And to answer your most pressing question, Wingleader, I am sixteen Turns."

"Ha!" barked Sebell. "Sixteen going on fifty, my dear!" He turned to T'men. "And she's assisted Harper Hall for more than half those Turns."

"Twenty-five Turns?" quipped T'men. "Or eight?"

Sebell grinned at his longtime friend but did not answer his impertinent question. "Brendeen, would you care to explain to T'men and Mara how you happened to be at Benden's last Hatching?" On seeing her momentary pain, he quickly turned less jovial. "My apologies, dear. I forget how painful that day must have been for you."

"No apology necessary Master. It was painful, but led to quite a remarkable outcome." She then focused on Mara, as looking at T'men caused her heart to flutter uncharacteristically. "Not many people know that my mother trained at Harper Hall for a short while. She soon found herself watching my father, and when he fell in love with her singing, she was soon able to watch him even closer. When she became aware that my unnatural perception of people's moods was indeed a more advanced level of telepathy, she enlisted my help in keeping Father out of trouble.

"Father was scheduled to meet with a group of men from the hills of northern Keroon on that day, and Mother was convinced that they were abominators, so when we learned of Benden's imminent Hatching, I used my many skills to persuade Father to bring me here instead." Her face changed to that of a spoiled little girl with plenty of eye batting and hand gestures thrown in for emphasis. "I just _love_ hatchings, after all, and I _really_ needed to be present at as many as possible in order to be found by _my gold dragon_, because, of course, I was _destined_ to be a Weyrwoman, and to lead entire Weyrs, just like the infamous Lessa. And, of course, those Weyrs would _always_ be grateful _and obliging_ to Keroon Hold _and my father_ for creating me in the first place."

Lessa – whose hand had been pressed to her lips since Brendeen started her little girl act – tried to speak sternly. "You do know that isn't how it works, I hope."

"Of course, Lessa, but it always impressed my father that my goals were as lofty as his, even if I was just a girl, and even if I did tend to change my mind as often as he sometimes does."

Sebell and F'lar howled with laughter at her abrupt changes of personality while Lessa replaced her hand over her lips and convulsed with her attempt to not laugh. T'men merely smiled with admiration at the girl's acting talent even as he shook his head.

Brendeen addressed T'men. "He really is a good man, you know. He's just . . . so easily swayed from his convictions."

Sebell sobered at that statement. "And how are your brothers doing, Brendeen?"

The girl smiled confidently. "They're doing fine, Master. Mother is teaching them well; they all know the Duty Song by memory and are learning the words and the meaning of the Charter. Fortunately, Father sees no need to waste time or training on them until they're older. And equally fortunate, they all seem to have inherited Mother's strength of character and quest for knowledge."

"That is truly good to hear, Brendeen. Thank you for sharing that with us."

"I do worry, sir, about how Mother will keep Father out of trouble without more help. Someone has been filling his head with the idea that 'real men' don't need to listen to mere women."

F'lar and T'men both scoffed at such a silly idea. Sebell frowned but spoke with reassurance. "I'll see what we can do to help her, Brendeen. You have other duties now."

They spoke for another candlemark about the problems and possibilities inherent to finding people with enhanced hearing skills. Mara was able to ask all her questions and Brendeen answered some and posed various scenarios for bringing these people together for discussions and possibly training.

Brendeen had been in mental contact with several other 'skilled' people, but had never met any of them in person. At least one of them had believed himself to be insane until Brendeen had reached him. She _spoke_ to him daily to reassure him he was not alone in his abilities and could learn to manage his skill in such a way as to not attract unwanted and fearful attention. Most she had reached were mere drudges with no hope of ever moving upward on the social ladder, and several were in imminent danger due to their unnatural abilities. One fairly young person was being used to further her foster parents' unscrupulous activities, and one very young child who could not differentiate between spoken words and thoughts had heard threats of being exposed to Thread.

By the end of the meeting, it was determined that both Brendeen and Mara would try, as time allowed, contacting as many people as possible. If these people were willing to meet others of their kind, Harper Hall and Benden Weyr would act as facilitators and protectors.

F'lar, with Lessa's agreement, offered to transport anyone – under the pretext of search if necessary – to Benden Weyr to meet Brendeen and Mara. At Benden, they would learn how at least two others were dealing with their skills and have the opportunity to discuss ramifications and ethical uses of those skills. And if nothing else, they would be surrounded by much more positive thoughts for awhile.

Sebell would speak with Selikar and if necessary find another Harper to assist these 'skilled' people and would work on a way to help them come to terms with their skills and find meaningful, safe employment – perhaps even with Harper Hall.

The Benden Weyrleaders would also talk to other Weyrleaders to arrange for transport to Benden. Few other Weyrleaders would be informed of the reasons for these emergency transports, but a coded phrase would trigger any dragonrider to provide, or arrange for, immediate transport.

At one point in the conversation, Mara wondered if there might be more people like G'raden scattered around Pern. He had been used when he was young, she reminded Lessa. Could they help others like him? Sebell, his grim face indicating he had been fully apprised of G'raden's recalled memories, promised to speak with Oldive; healers would be in a better position to locate such people, if they were aware of their existence.

The weyrlings were excused when their dragons began to stir from their naps. They would be filled in on further details at a later time.

With the girls gone, T'men's mind again drifted to the expectations of his Weyrleaders and his friend.

Sebell noticed. "What's bothering you, my friend?"

"She's younger than my daughter, Sebell. It isn't right!"

F'lar was about to respond, but Sebell held a finger up between them, gently demanding silence. "Consider this, my friend. If your daughter had recently impressed a gold dragon . . ." T'men's quick intake of breath indicated his quick understanding of Sebell's intentions. "Who would you wish to be the victor in her first mating flight?"

T'men looked frantic. His daughter? A gold rider? Thank Faranth and all that was good she was now too old to be searched.

"Would you prefer someone her age? Recently out of weyrling training? With little experience fighting Thread, or leading other riders? Limited experience with mating flights, or even in dealing with women? Or perhaps you'd prefer a much older rider who merely wished to use her and her dragon to take control of the Weyr? Or would you prefer someone somewhat older than her, with all the Thread fighting and leadership and mating flight experience, and a generous amount of compassion and understanding?"

Sebell watched his friend digest those questions and finally close his moist eyes in resignation. "T'men, you are the best possible man to take over leadership of Ista Weyr. You know the people of Ista Weyr and Ista Island. You know your duty to the Weyr, to Pern and to the people you lead. You understand how it all connects to form a cohesive Thread fighting unit and a peaceful community. And you know how to nurture people – young and older – into confident, thoughtful, caring members of Pern society. The only thing you lack right now, T'men, is the resolve to do what is requested of you and mighty Reyuth."

Wishing to end his lecture on a lighter note, Sebell added one more teasing question. "You don't doubt Reyuth's ability to catch Saraneth, do you?"

T'men snapped to annoyed attention. "Reyuth's abilities are _not_ in question, Masterharper!"

"Are yours, my friend?"

"I've never led more than a small group of people – my wing."

Lessa couldn't hold back any further. "Indeed!"

F'lar chuckled before adding, "Based on everything we've heard, T'men, you have been leading even more than Ista Weyr. I'm not entirely sure I could keep so many people from all the Weyrs focused on a single goal for a full month."

Lessa added more gently, "You have been the driving force at Ista Weyr, Wingleader T'men; maintaining the focused goal of rebuilding a healthy Weyr, successfully protecting Ista's areas against Thread, reestablishing functional relationships with outsiders, keeping the peace, and all while appeasing Weyrleader G'dened. The only lack I see in your abilities, Wingleader, is proper self-restraint; you need to know when to take a break to care for yourself."

"But, she's only sixteen."

"Oh, by the Red Star, man!" Lessa nearly fumed with impatience. "Most Holder girls are married by the time they are fourteen, and usually to much older men. By the time they're Brendeen's age, they already have at least one child. By Pernese standards, Brendeen is quite old enough to make her own choices, and believe me, Wingleader, if Brendeen decides you would be unsuitable as her working partner, we will make certain you and Reyuth don't even participate in her first mating flight. Any more excuses, Wingleader?"

"Lessa!" F'lar tried to take her hand, but she deftly pulled away.

"That's all this is! If the man is afraid of the title 'Weyrleader', he needs to say as much so we can locate someone more suitable. Otherwise we'll have to leave it all up to chance. Can Pern afford that with the massive changes coming in our immediate future?"

F'lar studied T'men before answering. "Perhaps Wingleader T'men has other reasons to hesitate." To T'men, he added, "I've seldom encountered a Bronze Rider who wouldn't jump at such an opportunity."

"Perhaps that's my reason for hesitancy, F'lar. I have never felt the need or the drive to lead like most Bronze Riders. I've never even imagined leading more than a group of children in song."

Sebell smiled knowingly at his friend, now understanding his concern. "Throughout history, T'men – both Pern's and what I've learned of Earth's – the very best leaders never had any desire to lead. Some people are born to lead, and when presented the opportunity, they accept the responsibility in order to improve whatever society they live in.

"F'lar, when you strove to become Weyrleader, was your primary objective to lead Benden Weyr?"

"No." F'lar appeared somewhat irritated at being Sebell's example. "What drove me was the need to prepare Pern for the return of Thread. My primary objective was the survival of the people of Pern. I would have gladly left leadership to others, if only they would accept that Thread would indeed return to plague this world."

Lessa gave T'men a minute to consider F'lar's admission. "Will you accept the responsibility of returning Ista Weyr to dragonrider standards, Leader T'men?"

T'men knew full well how these people were manipulating him into doing their bidding. He also knew from early childhood Harper training of F'lar's reasons for becoming Benden's Weyrleader, but to hear it from his own mouth while watching his eyes for any signs of deception – which were nonexistent – increased his admiration of the man. They were all testing his sense of duty, not only to them, but to Ista Weyr and all of Pern. How could he refuse such an assignment if they truly believed him capable?

"I will accept . . . if Brendeen and Saraneth are amenable to such a partnership."

Lessa broke into a full smile. "Good." She stood and reached for his glass. "Wine? To celebrate?"

T'men slowly smiled at his Weyrwoman before breaking into laughter. "No, thank you, Lessa. Water will be just fine."

They talked until midday meal about the progress at Ista Weyr. Sebell was quite adept at drawing out full, unembellished details from T'men.

As they adjourned to take their meals, on the walk to the Dining Cavern, Lessa took T'men by the arm. "You know, Brendeen is just as concerned about her own leadership abilities. Perhaps more so due to her age and lack of leadership experience."

"She puts on a believable act of confidence."

"She is quite an actress. And despite her worldly act, she is still a virgin."

T'men tripped over his own feet. F'lar caught his other arm as he scolded his weyrmate. "Lessa! Don't add to the man's stress."

"He needs to know."

"He has almost two Turns. This detail could have waited a few days at least, love."

T'men didn't seem to hear their banter. "She's a virgin?"

Lessa was relentless. "That needs to change within the next two Turns. The sooner, the better."

F'lar grinned at T'men's lax jaw. "Now, would you like some wine, Wingleader?"

"Brandy would be better. Lots of brandy."

* * *

A/N: So now you know my dilemma. Had to figure out if I was going to write the story as it came to me almost two Turns ago, or alter it to attempt something more canon. And now you know my decision.

On Alternate Universe (AU) writing: Isn't anything not written by the original author AU? Even small fill-in-the-missing-details stories are AU unless they are approved by the author.

Why introduce 'skills'? After reading _Skies of Pern_, I had a strong feeling that Ms. McCaffrey (may she rest in peace) was about to introduce more psychic abilities. If older dragons and riders had trouble with telekinisis, was it just the dragon's lack of ability? Do dragons grow hidebound or too old to learn? Or was it their riders who lacked the necessary ability, or belief in themselves?

By the way, I never read any of the Talent Series until this last Holiday season (and I read them all), so the idea of Talent on Pern in this story really did come from my own deranged mind.

Finally, if you really don't like AU DRoP stories, um, too bad. This is the story that's still stuck in my head. But, Skills will not be a major part of the story (other than Mara's _listening_ ability), so maybe you can ignore it?

As always, I greatly appreciate all your wonderful reviews! Please keep them coming?

THANK YOU FOR READING!


	30. Settling In

Just a reminder (to myself): _Dragonriders of Pern_ belongs to the late great Anne McCaffrey and her son.

G'raden and Mara and T'men and lots of other characters in this story are all mine!

* * *

Thread Fall was mostly uneventful late that afternoon. A few riders and/or dragons suffered minor Thread score and one second-Turn weyrling sprained a shoulder muscle tossing firestone from her dragon's back.

T'men, having been absent for most of a month, allowed M'dar to lead his wing, not wishing to undermine the man's well-earned authority, and knowing he was unlikely to return to Benden Weyr for more than a day or two for some time to come. M'dar was an excellent Wingleader, despite riding a brown dragon. He and his brown were unable to fly at the highest level for very long, but maintained control quite well from a slightly lower level, and none of the wing-riders resented their less-than-bronze abilities.

During firestone preparations earlier, B'rand had managed to work his way through the line to regain the necessary position to attempt injuring Mara. She was ready when he 'slipped' though, and merely moved her leg out of the way, caught and flung the bag on to the next weyrling, and then turned him around just in time to catch another bag square in his slight chest. She took the bag from his stunned arms, flung it on without a word and gently but firmly pushed the dazed bronze weyrling out of the line before catching another bag. B'rand soon found himself reassigned to the firestone pit, where he could take out his anger and frustration in a more productive manner, though L'ret fretted a bit about all the dust he created.

The uneventful Fall allowed Mara and Brendeen to _talk_ quite a bit, with each other and their dragons, about their shared Skills and how they would attempt contacting others with similar Skills. In the past, Brendeen had simply _listened_ for those who thought about what other people were thinking. She would then send out something along the lines of _You're not alone,_ and would sometimes receive a response which would open dialog. The girls would try the same techniques, focusing their Skills in different directions each evening. L'ret, at Lessa's suggestion, considered a candle-mark each evening in these pursuits to be chores so as not to infringe on the girls' free time.

Brendeen was anxious for her 'insane' friend to telepathically meet yet another like himself and to offer him some time at Benden Weyr. It hadn't been decided what would be done with these people once they'd been brought to Benden, but Brendeen was certain something could be arranged to benefit all.

T'men returned to Ista Weyr early the next day, and was somewhat surprised that he had been missed. With his Harper training in diplomacy, it didn't take too long to smooth out the misunderstandings that had manifested in his absence. Even G'dened was pleased with his return, as he had only managed to aggravate rising tensions.

T'men spent nearly a candle-mark grooming Caylith that evening. She was fascinated with his rendition of his embarrassing overindulgence in wine, his first awkward meeting with Brendeen and his discussions with Benden's Weyrleaders. He felt a bit like a gossiping school girl, but the lonely queen dragon enjoyed his slightly embellished stories so very much, especially when Reyuth added considerable humor with his dragon's view of events. T'men was properly chastised when the queen suggested he would have had far less trouble with the wine if he had only eaten that day. She was quite pleased however that he would now more seriously consider contending for the position of Ista's Weyrleader; he and Reyuth would be a far better match for Saraneth and her rider than anyone else she knew.

That night, T'men suddenly realized that G'dened's nightly meetings were simply a need to stave off his own loneliness. Cosira's mental condition was drifting back toward childhood; she could no longer engage in the deep conversations they had once shared. T'men asked Ista's current Weyrleader if perhaps one rider each night might be able to convey needed information between him and the rest of Ista's riders. G'dened, still having a keen mind and knowing he had taken unfair advantage of the visiting riders, agreed. From then on, T'men, with the assistance of his fellow bronze riders, arranged for one or two riders each night to keep G'dened company under the pretext of discussing important Weyr matters.

T'men also arranged with Ista's headwoman, who had returned only because T'men seemed to be in charge now, to have meals delivered to him no matter where he was working at set meal times. The headwoman, being as efficient and observant as Manora at Benden Weyr, also arranged to have his weyr cleaned – 'cleared out' were her words – each evening. On his second night back at Ista Weyr, T'men found an older lower caverns woman vigorously dusting his already spotless desk. When she realized it was T'men and not an unwanted visitor, she pulled her book from one of the desk drawers, asked him to request a ride to the floor of the bowl, and with barely used cleaning bucket in hand, graciously took her leave of his weyr. Later that night, he was only slightly roused from a restful sleep by Reyuth hissing and snapping at an intruder.

The night of the day T'men left Benden Weyr, Brendeen and Mara contacted the gold weyrling's 'insane' friend. He was overjoyed to learn there were at least two others like him, and because he had no family or even friends in the mines near Crom Hold, was anxious for the opportunity to visit Benden Weyr. The next morning, Brendeen met with Lessa and F'lar to relay what they had learned, including the man's name and the name of the mine he worked. Shortly after the morning meal, F'lar flew on Mnementh to speak with the Holder of that mine about Dalgarn's status. On learning he was _not_ a prisoner, but the long orphaned son of a past guard, and very odd to boot, F'lar received enthusiastic permission to remove him from the minehold. The Holder never even asked where Dalgarn was to be taken, so anxious was he to remove the very strange man from his crews.

Dalgarn was a skittish, wiry man of medium height with long, straight, brown hair tied with a hide strip behind his long, thin neck. He wasn't handsome, but was far from ugly. His nervousness increased when he learned he would be flying with the infamous Weyrleader F'lar of Benden Weyr. F'lar, seeing his nervousness, took extra time introducing the man to Mnementh. Dalgarn had never seen any dragon up close and was mesmerized by the size and beautiful strength of the huge bronze. Mnementh encouraged Dalgarn to pat his muzzle, and both jumped slightly when the touch of skin to hide opened their minds to each other. Dalgarn was apologetic, but Mnementh was fascinated. With F'lar's assurance he was not offended, Dalgarn again touched Mnementh's muzzle and all were intrigued with the experience; Dalgarn with the simple but extreme intelligence of the bronze dragon, Mnementh with the complex but harmless, hungry and lonely intelligence of the quiet man, and F'lar with Mnementh's estimation of the man's goodness and intelligence. With some friendly experimentation, it was quickly learned that Dalgarn could only _hear_ Mnementh when bare skin touched bare hide, unless the bronze _spoke _to him directly. It was also learned that Dalgarn, like Mara, could feel what Mnementh felt when they touched. F'lar was now confident this man could find a much more fulfilling livelihood than working in Crom's mines.

On his arrival at Benden Weyr, after being assigned a cot in the Lower Caverns and supplied with a full seven day's worth of clothing – he had arrived with only one day's change, a small roll of thin hides and a copy of the _Charter_ he had rescued from a waste pile – Dalgarn soon grew overwhelmed with relief at the mostly positive thoughts to be _heard_ at Benden Weyr. Manora, having been told about the Skilled people who would be arriving, suggested most kindly that he rest until midday meal, when he could meet Brendeen and Mara.

At midday meal, Mara and Brendeen were ordered to fill their trays and take them to the Council Chambers. In the Chambers, they finally met Dalgarn, who was extremely shy and nervous under the scrutiny of Lessa, even with F'lar trying to relieve his anxiety. Lessa was in a touchy mood this day so her thoughts, despite her forced smile, were anything but welcoming to a stranger, and Dalgarn's nervousness did not help to improve her mood. While Dalgarn blushed at Brendeen's telepathic explanation that Ramoth would soon rise to mate and Lessa was feeling a bit proddy, Mara explained to Lessa that he was misunderstanding her rather suspicious thoughts. Lessa took a deep calming breath and managed far more friendly thoughts toward the man. While she did not apologize, she did state that she was not yet accustomed to others _hearing_ her thoughts.

Dalgarn relaxed considerably, and was eventually coaxed into telling his life history. His mother had died shortly after birthing him. As a very young child, he had been unable to distinguish between thoughts and spoken words. His father, a very patient and understanding man, quickly realized the boy's problem, and worked with him in their small cot. Outside the cot, Dalgarn had been encouraged to not respond to anyone unless he saw their lips moving as they spoke to him. The people of the hold decided the boy was hard of hearing, and having no experience with deafness, also treated him as if he were dim-witted. He had been permitted to sit in on Harper training, but had never been asked to participate. The few other children in the hold avoided him unless they were teasing or taunting him. His father had been killed in an altercation with some prisoners when Dalgarn was nine Turns, and the boy had been fostered grudgingly by another couple in the hold. Yes, he told Lessa, he could now hear the difference between thoughts and words, but still had trouble ignoring thoughts; those at the mines were seldom pleasant – so many of the prisoners were unrepentant of their deeds and many were extremely vengeful, and the non-prisoners tended to be constantly on edge due to the presence of the prisoners. No, he didn't have the usual muscles of a mine worker; he had been leading the dray beasts up and down the tunnels since he was twelve Turns old, almost fifteen Turns now.

Lessa quizzed him on his interests and skills trying to determine where he might fit into the Weyr for the time being, but Dalgarn seemed quite reluctant to reveal his interests. He had worked with dray beasts, but was unable to kill any beast, large or small, for which he had been teased mercilessly. Lessa assured him he was not alone in that characteristic, and would not be asked to kill anything at Benden Weyr; there were plenty of other people able to do so when needed. By the end of the meal, it was determined Dalgarn would help Manora wherever she deemed necessary and also be asked to help Mara and the dragon-healers to more quickly discover problems or injuries in dragons. Dalgarn was so thrilled that he could be of use to the Weyr, he almost broke into tears. F'lar rescued him though, by slapping him on the back and leading him out of the Chambers; the 'girls' would deal with the meal mess. Dalgarn, in his first meekly assertive act in many Turns, suggested that if he were going back to the Dining Cavern anyway, he could help the ladies clean up and take the trays with him. "Good man!" declared F'lar, as they both returned to help the ladies.

A couple days after Dalgarn's arrival at Benden Weyr, while attending another lecture on the Charter of Pern and how it pertained to dragonrider responsibilities, Brendeen was contacted by her youngest friend. He – or she; Brendeen still wasn't sure – was frantic; the child had been sent out onto the Igen Plains to search for a 'lost' beast and Thread was due sometime soon this day and the beast wasn't lost; they had butchered it just yesterday. Brendeen almost rudely requested permission to leave the class with Mara, who had _listened_ to the frantic call for help. As Tianna assured L'ret she would fill both weyrlings in on the missed class work, seconded by B'roghe, Mara told the weyrlingmaster telepathically that a child was in desperate need of help. L'ret, knowing of the Skills these two weyrlings were being asked to use, excused them both. As the girls ran north, they _contacted _F'lar and Lessa, and all four met in F'lar's office where he kept projected Fall charts for all of Pern. They very quickly determined the most likely areas where the child might be and _contacted _T'men. F'lar and T'men quickly arranged a wing each of rescue riders. They met up with Igen's Weyrleader as he was about to launch his wings and obtained permission to search ahead of leading edge. They only found the child because he/she was running; the small child had been dressed in robes the color of the surrounding sand and would have been invisible when stationary. The fear-crazed child was quickly whisked to Benden Weyr and into the care – though only temporarily – of Brendeen and Mara. Once sufficiently calmed down, the child informed Brendeen her name was Felesia and she would soon be six Turns old and she didn't think her parents were going to give her a Birthing Day party this Turn which was alright by her since no one came last Turn because they were all afraid of her, but she would really miss her mother's klah cake with klah icing and shaved orange roots and flower petals on top because it was as pretty as it was good to eat. Brendeen asked when her Birthing Day was and assured her that surely, some sort of party could be arranged.

Dalgarn and Felesia made an instant connection when they met, Dalgarn understanding from personal experience her unique problem and being more than willing to help her differentiate between other people's thoughts and spoken words. They quickly became inseparable, Felesia even wanting to sleep with him. Manora, quite understandably, would not allow that, but did allow the girl to share her room and even her bed at night for the time being.

Felesia 'helped' Dalgarn with each of his chores and they _spoke_ about everything they were hearing, whether telepathically or verbally. Manora was good about assigning chores with which the little girl could help without risk of injury and, once filled in on her specific problem, also assisted with questioning thoughts when the three of them were alone. She also had no qualm about Dalgarn taking breaks when the girl needed to rest, as he was careful to stay in public areas while he held and rocked her for her naps. When the child became less needy of his specific sort of help, Manora would place her with other children her age, but not until she could discern the difference between thoughts and words. Until then, Manora relished the sight of skittish Dalgarn smiling serenely as he rocked fragile little Felesia.

Two days after Felesia's arrival, the Weyr woke to the sight of Ramoth sleeping on the fire heights. As the sun rose, the queen glowed in the morning light. Lenarra, Benden's adult junior weyrwoman, after quickly donning her queen's riding straps and her own riding gear, made the necessary arrangements with Brendeen and Tianna in tow. Manora was first to be contacted; she was already arranging travel rations and would determine which non-riders should be taken from the Weyr for the day. Wingleaders – even with their attentions on the queen – were tasked with arranging for their wing riders to transport anyone needing to leave. Flying weyrlings would help with personnel transfers. Non-flying weyrlings were quickly fed and separated as before during the two green mating flights they had experienced. Lenarra kept a close eye on Ramoth while Ayrieth monitored the senior queen's condition and kept the other dragons focused on their tasks. At Ayrieth's mental signal, Lenarra left remaining arrangements to the weyrling weyrwomen, Manora and L'ret, and quickly left Benden Weyr.

Only the most senior of experienced non-bronze riders stayed in the Weyr to maintain control of the weyrlings this day. Weyrlings were again separated by the riders' gender, but the boy weyrlings were spread along the east and west walls of the bowl, boy dragons on the west and greens on the east. The reason, joked the older riders, was to keep Ramoth from mistaking a weyrling near the lake for a herd beast. No one knew, they continued to tease, if the queen could survive losing a young _dragon_ due to her mindless hunger.

Bronze riders, of course, stayed to participate in the flight, even knowing their chances of ever catching Pern's largest and fastest gold dragon were slim at best; her choice had always taken precedent over the bronze dragons' performance, though Mnementh could still out-fly any bronze dragon on Pern, especially when chasing Ramoth.

The emotions this day were far more intense than when the greens flew. The non-bronze riders were hard pressed to protect the green weyrlings from some of the young male weyrlings overcome by the need to fulfill nature's primal drive.

Mara and Klamath had been sent north with the other girl weyrlings, but soon found themselves separate from the others. Klamath was feeling extreme curiosity about the greens and golds, and Mara was not unaffected by his newfound interest. While she had no sexual interest in the girl weyrlings, she worried that Klamath's interest might show on her face and frighten the youngest of the girls. So they stayed apart and talked to each other about what they were witnessing and _hearing_ from the older dragons, Mara rubbing her brown's cheeks, neck and shoulders.

Ramoth gave Benden's bronzes a good, long, thrilling chase. When Mnementh finally caught her, their flight down was almost as long as the greens' entire mating flights, first challenge to final landing.

Mara and Klamath watched and _listened_ to what was happening in the Weyr as Ramoth and Mnementh made their long slow way back to the bowl. As F'lar triumphantly carried Lessa to their weyr, defeated bronze riders were pairing up with Lower Caverns women or some of the female healers. There were a few near arguments between riders, but they were quickly squelched by the women and other riders. Frustration was understandable even if all had known the outcome, but fights would not be tolerated by anyone in the Weyr.

Weyrlings were again tasked with physically strenuous chores for the remainder of the day. Due to the heightened emotions experienced during a queen's mating flight, extra senior riders were enlisted to maintain civility among youngsters unfamiliar with such intensity of feelings. Frustration was the most common problem with the weyrlings, some for being unable to engage in activities which they knew would alleviate their pent up anxieties and others for not knowing how to handle those feelings.

The girls were assigned to clean several more empty storerooms, but when Klamath began nosing around the greens' tails and one of the green weyrlings took offense, thus annoying the sniffed green as well, he and his rider were sent away. They walked briskly toward the boy dragons, trying to work off some of their 'energy', but slowed when some of the boy weyrlings began eyeing Mara in an uncomfortable way. Not sure what to do, even though she was sure she could handle any of the weyrlings, Mara contacted L'ret. He sounded rather harried over their mental link, and merely suggested she find somewhere else to be for the remainder of the day.

So, Mara and Klamath walked quickly toward the Dining Cavern; Mara could always eat a little more.

_Did I do something wrong?_ asked Klamath plaintively.

_No, my love. You did what comes natural. Dirth's rider must be holdbred._

_Why can't we go with the boy dragons?_

_Well . . ._ Mara had to think about that – how to explain it to her little brown? She looked into his puzzled eyes as they approached the entrance to the Dining Cavern. _I guess because some of their riders are holdbred too._

_What does that mean?_

_It means . . ._ "Oooff." Mara's breath was knocked away as she hit a large, warm wall.

Big hands steadied the woman as a deep, rich, melodious voice said, "My apologies. I wasn't paying attention."

Mara blushed and stepped back from the big man. Looking into his deep brown eyes, she responded. "That makes two of us. My apologies."

_That was interesting! _Klamath watched from a pace away, eyes whirling blue and green with only a touch of yellow.

"What?" asked Mara, stunned by her brown's accompanying thoughts.

"What?" asked G'raden, aware a conversation was being held between the weyrling and her dragon.

Mara chuckled as she blushed even deeper. "Klamath says that was interesting." She chuckled again. "He wonders what would happen if we touch hide to hide."

G'raden chuckled from deep in his belly and held a hand out palm up. "Healthy curiosity should never be discouraged."

Both humans watched Klamath as Mara laid her hand in G'raden's. Their hands separated after several heartbeats when the brown's eyes became more orange.

G'raden smiled forlornly. "Progress takes time." He grimaced at Mara. "Why aren't you with the other weyrlings?"

Mara grimaced back. "Long story?" She hoped he understood her not wanting to discuss the problem in Klamath's presence, even as she _heard_ him begin putting the 'long story' together quite accurately. "Why aren't you . . . um . . . busy?"

G'raden blushed. "I was in Landing. We just got back with some of the kitchen workers."

"Ahh." Mara was at a loss for words. She wanted to talk to the man, to find out what he had been up to for the last several sevendays, to explore his newfound confidence, to see if they would ever be weyrmates again after all that had changed in their lives, but it was not proper for a girl weyrling to spend time alone with any man, let alone a man she wished to hold and so much more she couldn't even think about until Klamath was older.

While G'raden was not Skilled at hearing thoughts, he was quite observant, so knew and understood Mara's hesitancy. "What are your plans for the rest of the day?"

"No plans. I guess we'll just keep walking until we find something useful to do."

"You were about to eat?" When she nodded, he smiled. "Why not bring some food out here. We can sit in full view of everyone, including young Klamath, and . . . talk for awhile."

Mara consulted Klamath, who sat with his head nearly at her eye level, observing both his rider and this man who caused her so many strange, but interesting, sensations. The growing brown finally turned toward G'raden and poked his muzzle into the man's firm belly, eyes whirling an almost relaxed blue and green.

G'raden rumbled with barely suppressed mirth as he rubbed the brown's lower jaw. "I take it you approve Klamath?"

Klamath nearly purred as the man rubbed his head in all the right places.

Mara walked to the kitchen and picked up a leftover travel ration carisak. When she left the Dining Cavern, she found G'raden seated a couple dragon-lengths down the western wall with Klamath's head on his lap. G'raden stroked his head from muzzle-tip to head knob – sometimes between his eyes and sometimes along or under his jaw – as the brown crooned in delight.

"He never gets enough loving!" Mara was a bit surprised at the level of jealousy in her simple statement.

G'raden smiled knowingly as he continued his ministrations. "They never do at this age. Normond would cozy up to almost anyone who was willing to scratch or rub his head and neck."

_I love the way you scratch me Mara, but his hands are bigger and rougher. It really feels good._

"Sometimes it made me feel rather inadequate," continued G'raden, "until I noticed other dragonets doing the same."

Klamath raised his head and turned slightly worried eyes to his rider. _Do you feel . . . inadequate?_

_Just a little bit, love. I'm supposed to be able to provide everything you need. But I understand – G'raden does have wonderful hands, doesn't he?_

_You give me everything I _need,_ Mara. I don't need this, but I do like it._

_Then enjoy it, my love. You deserve it._

Klamath laid his head back down and closed his eyelids. _Does he rub you like this?_

Mara laughed as she sat at the other end of his growing body. _Sometimes._ She blushed as she studied the contents of her carisak, laying out each item in order of preference, and rearranging them just to keep from looking at G'raden for a little while.

_Now I understand the tingling in your belly. I think my belly will tingle later when I think about this._

G'raden laughed when Normond passed on Klamath's thoughts. But to avoid lingering on a forbidden topic, he chose another. "I'm anxious for you to visit Landing. They have an entire building dedicated to holding books Aivas has stored in his memory banks."

Mara was grateful for the change of subject. "A whole building?"

"Easily as big as our Living Cavern and another building is dedicated to just medical books, and they're talking about adding another building just for technical, scientific books. The two libraries aren't even full yet, but Aivas claims we could easily fill a hundred such buildings with everything in his memory."

Knowing how many books were in T'men's library at Benden Weyr, Mara tried to imagine the Living Cavern full of similarly placed rows of shelving. The number of books it would take to fill the Living Cavern was mind boggling. And one hundred times that number was too much to comprehend for an ex-dockworker who had so far read only one book in her thirty-two Turns. "Whoa," she slowly enunciated as she tried to picture what G'raden had described.

G'raden told her about all he had seen at Landing as they ate their travel rations. He also told about how he was taking a course in Human Anatomy and Physiology at Masterhealer Oldive's suggestion. No, he would never be a full healer, but the Master believed he could be of great help to Healer Hall in some very difficult to diagnose cases. Master Oldive had said he would never ask G'raden to use his healing Skills, but he would also never refuse G'raden's help in that area if freely offered.

As Klamath bounced between being scratched and rubbed by his rider and her man friend and just bouncing around in circles, G'raden also told how the Weyr Harper had suggested he retake Aivas' 'aptitude test' and how he had been assessed as capable of excelling at anything, with particular emphasis on the healing arts and history. When he shared his impatience at waiting for Mara's chance to take the aptitude test, Mara balked, wondering what would happen if Aivas said she should go back to the docks. G'raden laughed and stated decisively that should Aivas make such an assessment, it would surely be shut down and disassembled until whatever malfunction might have caused such a foolish mistake was discovered.

As they talked and laughed, often with Klamath between them, Ayrieth bugled a welcome to the watch dragon before beginning a tight but slow spiral into the northern end of the bowl. Squealing and hearty laughter could be heard throughout the bowl as the beautiful gold descended; Felesia, wrapped up in furs, squealed with delight in Lenarra's tight grip while Dalgarn and Lenarra laughed.

"She's an odd little darling," mused G'raden aloud as they watched several other riders assist Lenarra's passengers to the ground. "Have you met Felesia and Dalgarn?"

Mara nodded, but didn't elaborate. Instead she decided to pretend ignorance. "Why's she odd?"

"She seems afraid to even speak without Dalgarn's permission. I don't know how they came to be at Benden Weyr, but I really wonder if that man is any good for that little girl."

How interesting, thought Mara, that G'raden would suspect anything harmful from Dalgarn. "Surely someone would separate them if he was doing her any harm."

"You're right, of course. He seems to be working for Manora, and I'm sure she would notice if any harm were being done. It's just odd. Maybe I just need to get to know them better."

"Yeah."

"You said you've met them. What do you know about that pair?"

"Umm, I know they have a lot in common."

"That's rather cryptic."

"Cryptic?"

"Like you're trying to tell me something without telling me something." He laughed at her guilty grimace. "Secrets in the line of duty?"

"Yeah."

"Well then, I won't pry. Do you think that little girl will be all right though?"

"I do. And I don't think you need to worry about Dalgarn either."

"Then I won't, but I will get to know them better."

And he wouldn't worry about them; Mara _heard_ his trust of her impressions of Dalgarn and Felesia.

As bronze rider and brown weyrling smiled at each other across the crooning back of a little brown, Lenarra approached, flight jacket under one arm and gloves in her hand. G'raden quickly stood to greet her. Out of habit, he offered a hand to Mara, but pulled it back to avoid physical contact without Klamath's express permission.

"Are you keeping our unique weyrling company, Bronze Rider?" The gold rider, in her fourth decade guessed Mara, sounded skeptical, but smiled at G'raden.

"Yes, ma'am. She didn't seem to have anything else to do."

Lenarra smiled ruefully at Mara. "I've heard about what happened." Her dark eyebrows rose momentarily before she bent slightly to look Klamath in the eye. "You have nothing to be sorry for, young Klamath." She stood back up and spoke to Mara. "I dare say, tomorrow considerably more greens and even the golds will have their tails sniffed . . . repeatedly. Klamath was simply the first in this weyrling class to have the opportunity. Gold flights have that effect on the dragonets. And I think this class will mature sexually a bit earlier than most classes I've seen. Most classes don't get to experience a gold flight for at least two months after Hatching." She bent again to speak to Klamath. "Perhaps you can also be the first in this class to learn restraint in the presence of green and gold riders, hmm?"

_Because they're holdbred?_ asked Klamath innocently.

Lenarra laughed. "Yes, because they're holdbred, and not very comfortable with anything sexual – at least not with other people around."

Klamath nodded at the Weyrwoman before asking other dragons about 'restraint'.

Lenarra blushed at something Ayrieth said to her, but turned her attention to Mara. "Weyrlingmaster L'ret has asked me to find something for you to do." She then turned to G'raden. "Are you busy this afternoon, G'raden?"

"No, ma'am."

She squinted slightly as she studied the man. "Perhaps you'd be willing to keep this weyrling and her dragon occupied? Perhaps a good run along the road to Benden Hold?"

"Outside the Weyr?"

"I think that might be best for all the weyrlings this day." Seeing G'raden's discomfort about breaking such a long standing rule, she teased the man. "Should I arrange for a chaperone?" She smiled victoriously at the indignant shock on his face. "Enjoy your afternoon. Mara, check in with me before evening meal. We'll see how the other weyrlings are handling all this before we seat you with any of them."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, Weyrwoman."

* * *

Well, this chapter was supposed to cover a whole month, but then G'raden showed up, so . . .

I simply cannot ignore G'raden. Sorry. Sort of.


	31. Finding Home

I often forget – due to the drive to get these chapters posted:

Thank you all for reading and reviewing! I love reviews! They keep this story alive.

Dragonriders of Pern is not my property and I make not one single 32nd mark from my embellishment of the late, great, beloved Anne McCaffrey's wonderful work.

* * *

As G'raden, Mara and Klamath walked through the two mile long tunnel to Benden Weyr's only ground exit, Mara pondered what she had _heard_ from Lenarra. She and G'raden apparently had some history together, and Lenarra was hoping to 'win' him back. The thought that bothered Mara most was that allowing G'raden to spend time with the _brown_ weyrling should help him to choose gold instead. The thought had been brief, and only one of many far more considerate thoughts, but it had been too strong for Mara to ignore. Lenarra did have the best interests of Benden Weyr, Klamath, and even Mara in mind, but a part of her was willing to fight – at least metaphorically – to regain G'raden's attention now that he no longer stuttered. Mara found herself wondering how many women would now consider G'raden a more desirable partner.

Klamath's mind was filled with the excitement of seeing the 'outside' of Benden Weyr, so he didn't fully notice his rider's concerns. When they passed one of the storage caverns being cleaned by the girls, the quickly maturing brown had to be reminded that restraint is an admirable quality.

When they entered the massive, and currently empty, loading and unloading cavern, G'raden sought to end the uncomfortable silence. "Is something bothering you?"

Mara sighed, and managed to smile at the big man. They both watched with amusement as Klamath bounced into the big cavern and spun in circles to see every nook and cranny, and smelled the beasts that had occupied the area, while Mara quickly thought about how to get some answers. Finally, she managed with, "How well do you know Lenarra?"

G'raden's eyebrows shot up. He watched Klamath while wondering what had brought on that question. Perhaps the way Lenarra had looked at him as if she knew him so well? Well, he thought, no secrets and no lies, and this could hardly be considered a duty-bound secret; she would learn the truth eventually. He took a deep breath and looked into Mara's eyes. "We were weyrmates . . . for almost three days . . . over ten Turns ago."

"Ahh," was all Mara could manage. Where to go from there? Weyr relationships were not considered as private as Holder relationships, or so she had heard, but where was the line?

"Does that bother you?" asked G'raden carefully.

"No! You've been in the Weyr a long time . . . and you're older than me . . . and I hope you've had several weyrmates over so many Turns."

The big man scoffed at that and spoke as if to himself. "More than several, actually." He rolled his eyes and decided to tell the whole story. He kept his eyes on the tunnel ahead and sighed before sharing what she would eventually discover on her own.

"When Ayrieth rose to mate her first time, Normond caught her." His pride in Normond's accomplishment brightened his wide face momentarily. "Lenarra, being holdbred and having very definite ideas about sexual relationships, decided we should weyr together. Experience should have warned me, but I allowed myself to believe a gold rider would somehow be different than green riders or the lower caverns women.

"Everything was fine for the first two days. But, that second day was Seventh Day and we went to the evening celebration. Lots of women enjoy dancing as much as I do, but when the dance ends, all that's left is talk. Lenarra was embarrassed by my inability to dazzle her friends. She asked me to move out the next day."

"Fool!"

G'raden stopped in his tracks and turned to Mara. "Lenarra has learned a great deal about people in her many Turns with Lessa. She's a good Weyrwoman!"

Mara could understand a bronze rider's devotion to any gold rider, but this was not quite devotion; it was simply duty – a bronze rider's duty to defend and support a gold rider of his Weyr. "If Ayrieth had just risen, Lenarra must have been pretty young. I wonder if she wishes she hadn't asked you to leave."

G'raden scoffed again, and shook his head with regret. How to avoid sounding conceited? But Mara needed to know the reality of what she would hopefully choose to return to. "Since my memories have returned – many thanks to you, by the way – several ex-weyrmates have suggested resuming those relationships."

Why was he so embarrassed, wondered Mara, and what was 'conceited'? She'd have to look it up later. G'raden was a good man, in _many_ ways – she tried to not think of some of those ways. Such a wonderful man should not be alone. "You should have a weyrmate, G'raden."

The man's face grew hard and he glared at the weyrling next to him. "I have a weyrmate!" Her shock eased his surprised anger and he extended his hands partially. "I just can't touch you for awhile." Her tearful smile prompted a glib, "I can wait."

_Mara? What happened? Did he hurt you? Why are you crying?_

Mara moved fast to stop Klamath from head-butting G'raden. "G'raden didn't hurt me, love. These are happy tears!"

Klamath sat back on his haunches and stretched his neck to raise his head almost level with the bronze rider's.

G'raden fought laughter at the sight of the little brown squaring off with him, wings spread slightly to give the impression he was much larger. "I love your rider, brave Klamath, and I told her she is welcome to rejoin me in my weyr, when and if you approve, of course."

The little brown's eyes lost their angry red tint and changed to a worried yellowish-orange. _Do you love this rider, Mara?_

"Yes, Klamath, I do love G'raden, more than I ever thought possible."

Klamath seemed to wilt as he dropped back onto his forelegs. _Do you love him more than me?_

"Oh, no, Klamath!" Mara dropped to her knees and took her lifemate's head in her hands. "I love you more than anyone or anything _forever_. _You_ are my reason for living, sweet Klamath."

G'raden lowered to one knee to meet Klamath's eyes. "As it should be for all dragonriders, Klamath. Our dragons are the most important things in our lives. Even more important than our weyrmates."

_We have weyrmates now._

"Yes, love, we have weyrmates, and I like them all very much. G'raden would be a special weyrmate, someday when you understand that my love for you is stronger than any other love."

_Do I make you cry happy tears?_

"Yes you do, my love! I cry happy tears some mornings when I see you sleeping so peacefully, and every time you do something new and wonderful, and some nights . . ."

_I've never seen you cry happy tears._

"You saw happy tears once, Klamath. But it bothered you, so I guess I try to hide them." Even as she said it, she realized she was in error again.

Klamath's eyes developed a pinkish tint even as G'raden growled with displeasure. _We're not supposed to keep secrets from each other, Mara._

At the very same instant, G'raden said, "You're not supposed to keep secrets from your dragon, Mara."

Mara hung her head and sighed. "It's so hard. I want to protect you, Klamath. But, you're both right. I'm sorry I kept it secret."

_Are you keeping other secrets?_ asked Klamath with indignation.

Yes, she had secrets; she knew things – things had happened to her that no youngster should ever know. "Yes, Klamath, I am keeping other secrets, but . . ." Mara looked to G'raden for help.

G'raden saw her desperation, and fully understood her desire to protect young Klamath from the extreme unpleasantness she had experienced just recently. "If there are other secrets, Klamath, they can be discussed later. If we don't get outside soon, it will be time to return to the bowl."

Klamath eyed the bronze rider as if assessing his trustworthiness. He drew his muzzle in with a strange twist of his neck that seemed to convey reluctant, yet eager, acceptance. He turned toward the loading cavern's exterior exit and asked both riders, _This way?_

"That way." G'raden smiled as he stood. He offered a hand up to Mara, but took no offense when she refused his help. She stood much easier now and G'raden was thrilled that she seemed to feel far less of the residual pain of her attack just over a month ago.

As they followed Klamath into the longer portion of the tunnel, G'raden turned serious. "You'll need to tell him everything eventually."

"I know. But does he really need to know right now just how mean people can be to each other?"

"No, it can wait."

Klamath's excitement at seeing light at the end of the tunnel affected both his rider and her man friend; they jogged the last few dragon-lengths. As they walked into the sunshine, Klamath stood very still barely a dragon-length from the exit.

_There are no walls! Outside is huge!_

Draconic huffing could be heard from above even over human laughter as Normond back-winged to land another dragons-length ahead of Klamath. While the dragons began what would be an extensive discussion of just how huge outside really was, G'raden and Mara began their daily runs, Klamath trotting and Normond walking quickly behind.

The bronze rider was able to keep talking even as he ran, though with a few breaks in sentences for breath. He continued his description of Landing, and of the people he had met, and told of how much he enjoyed spending time with Lord Lytol and retired Weyrleader D'ram. He'd even had the opportunity to transport Lytol on a few occasions, between Landing and Cove Hold or Southern Hold. Lytol, he explained, was attempting to read all the history of Earth in Aivas' memory banks, but feared he would need two full lifetimes to complete the task. He had been quite helpful in suggesting query topics to learn more about the corporations of Earth and how dangerous some of them had become to Earth's residents. Lytol too had noticed the repeated derogatory notes in the Harpers' highly illuminating _Charter of Pern – Annotated with Historical References_, but had not had the opportunity to engage in further research, being far more interested in a longer range of all-encompassing general history. G'raden grinned even wider as he told how Lord Lytol was anxious to review his findings; perhaps their separate works would help Pern develop into the utopia the Ancients had envisioned so many Turns ago.

Mara stopped running and spun quickly around when she overheard Normond suggesting Klamath use his wings for balance and a little extra speed. Klamath had not kept up with the runners, but was running as fast as he could manage, now with wings spread and flapping to create a speedier, but rather awkward step-leap-step gait. Mara tried to avoid panic; Normond had also suggested rather strongly that if Klamath should trip, he should immediately pull his wings in tight to prevent any damage. And the big bronze kept pace with the little brown with his long neck stretched out and ready to assist if there were any mishaps.

As G'raden moved beside Mara, she stated her concern. "They're not supposed to do that without supervision."

G'raden chuckled, but answered quite seriously. "In the bowl, with so many young dragons wanting to fly, collisions are inevitable. Supervision is the best way to prevent possibly lifelong wing damage. Besides," He assumed an insulted air, "Normond is supervising."

Mara glanced at her untouchable weyrmate just long enough to be sure his attitude was an act. "And giving good advice."

"Of course. Who better to teach a little dragon to fly than a big dragon?"

Mara grinned as she watched Klamath's leaps grow longer with each slight adjustment to the tilt of his wings and higher as he used more force on the downward stoke. Klamath reached his rider in plenty of time to see her proud, happy tears. This time however, he was not bothered, feeling more than a bit of pride himself.

Klamath began to droop with fatigue as riders and dragons discussed his amazing progress over the last month. As he finally dozed off, Normond volunteered to guard the little brown while he slept so the riders could finish their 'morning' run.

After a short distance, Mara commented on G'raden's efficient running style; his body moved straight forward, not up and down like hers. He fell behind slightly to observe her technique and began offering suggestions on how she could run with less wasted motion. By the time they reached the second bend in the road, Mara was running far more efficiently, but would feel new pains in her legs this evening.

As less attention to Mara's running was required, G'raden began talking about the changes at Southern Hold. People from all over the immense Hold were quite relieved that Toric was no longer Holder, but had feared even considering which of his sons might succeed their dominative, uncompromising and unforgiving father. Talk of using Southern as a testing and training ground for different governance practices had caused considerable interest, and just last sevenday, a meeting had been held at Southern Hold – with Ramala's enthusiastic cooperation and eager participation.

The earlier presentation hosted by the history and government students at Landing had been a huge success, with Holders and Masters from all over Pern attending as well as a considerable number of un-ranked persons from in and near Landing. Ramala had attended with several of her children, including those in contention for their father's position, and most had left agreeing that Southern Hold would be an excellent testing ground due to its size and diversity of people.

Small Holders from throughout Southern Hold had attended the meeting hosted by Toric's wife and the committee of major Holders' adult children who were now overseeing all that happened in Southern. All, including non-holders, had been welcomed to witness the same presentation given to major Lords Holder at Landing. And all had been asked to stay an extra day to discuss the possibilities for the future of Pern.

Dragonriders from all the Weyrs not engaged in Thread fighting had helped to convey people from distant Holds to the meeting, and G'raden had been one of many from Benden Weyr. Many riders, including G'raden, stayed through the entire presentation and the next day's discussions – some to learn more about the proposed systems and some to help maintain order during what could have been a very contentious debate. G'raden had been pleasantly surprised that few altercations had needed outside intervention, and was thrilled that so many in Southern were willing to test the students' theories.

As the bronze rider and brown weyrling rounded the second curve in the road leading to Benden Hold, they noticed wagons haphazardly pulled off the road into surrounding bushes and the few trees bordering Benden Lake. Both riders picked up their pace, but Mara soon lagged behind; she was already beyond the point where she should have slowed down.

G'raden began calling out to the owners of the wagons, and slowed his pace as a man stepped out of one enclosed wagon still straightening his clothing. Mara slowed her pace as she _heard_ G'raden relax and saw the man looking meekly embarrassed. Mara _listened_ to other thoughts in the area as other men popped up from amongst the bushes or walked around their wagons. She stopped several dragon-lengths away until a few disheveled women began showing themselves, and then waited until G'raden waved her over.

The members of the tithe and trading train were quite embarrassed at having been caught in the emotional turmoil of Ramoth's rising until G'raden and Mara shared a few milder stories about what could happen inside the Weyr during a queen's mating flight. Embarrassment died as the caravaners realized even dragonriders were susceptible to those overwhelming emotions and drives.

Feelings were mixed when one of the caravaners realized Mara was Pern's first brown rider, but Mara was made more than welcome by those who celebrated her unique status. The children, who had been sent to fish in the lake under escort of the train's aunties and uncles, were called in with a shrill whistle and soon nearly overwhelmed both Benden riders with questions about dragon-riding in general and Mara's training with a brown dragon in particular. Poorly disguised hints that the brown rider was not a _normal_ woman were quickly and kindly countered when G'raden relayed that they had been – and soon would be again - weyrmates. If the bronze rider's words didn't convince the doubters, Mara's glowing, blushing grin did. Their lack of touching, or even sitting too close together, led to more discussion about young dragons.

As the talk shifted to issues outside Benden Weyr, Mara's attention was drawn to a boy standing away from the crowd. No more than ten Turns old, the boy sneered when Mara smiled and waved, before walking to the other side of the wagon he had been leaning on. Mara focused her _hearing_ in his direction and wondered if he realized his legs were visible under the wagon. His quick move to hide behind the wheels of the wagon – and his disparaging thoughts about 'that abomination of a woman' – convinced Mara of the validity of her suspicion; the boy was Skilled. She excused herself from the group of caravaners, claiming the need to stretch her legs, and walked toward the boy's hiding place. As she approached the wagon, the boy ran toward the lake on a narrow beast path.

Mara thought loudly at the lad. _You don't need to run, boy. I won't hurt you._

The boy stopped, and turned slowly and carefully, still ready to continue his escape. _I've heard your voice before._

_Sometime in the last few days I'd wager._

_And another lady._

_That would be Brendeen. We're trying to find other people like us . . . Skilled people._

_Skilled? _The boy suddenly became angry. _Most think I come from the Red Star._

Mara laughed. _If being Skilled means you're from the Red Star, then I would be too, but why would a dragon choose anyone from the home of Thread? Two dragons; Brendeen is a gold rider!_

The boy's brow furrowed as he considered her question. He finally squinted up at her. _What do you want?_

_I just want to talk._

"Then talk. They're looking at us like we's Thread."

They found a place to sit, not too close to the others or to each other – the boy was irrationally fearful of being captured – and talked for quite some time. The boy's name was Melvar but everyone called him Mel. He was almost ten Turns and had been alone since the age of six when he and his parents were thrown into a raging river near the top of 'the Big Falls' near their small hold in the Keroon hills. His parents had died in the tumble, but Melvar had survived and floated down the river to another small holding. Being angry about the violent loss of his parents, Melvar had used his Skills to irritate and even frighten the people of his new, but temporary home. Since then, he had been shuttled from place to place, usually on trader caravans, and dropped off anywhere people thought they could use a young boy. Each time he wore out his welcome, he was shuttled off somewhere else. He wasn't at all sure where these traders were taking him, but was tired of being treated like a bad mark. His sour countenance almost broke when Mara asked if he would like to visit Benden Weyr and meet others like himself.

Melvar was cautious about discussing his Skills, but eventually disclosed that his father, too, had heard thoughts. He had been very good at keeping it secret though, at least until Melvar got caught and his father, Varegg, tried to defend him by admitting his own Skills in the hope his neighbors would see the harmlessness. That prompted the Thread-spawn holders to throw them all in the river, hoping to rid Pern – or at least their little hold – of such abominations.

They talked a little about how their Skills still needed to be kept secret; most people, even in the Weyr, didn't know they existed yet, but that would change someday, declared Mara.

As Klamath began to stir from his nap, Melvar began looking uncomfortable. He asked about the strange thoughts he'd been hearing more and more of as they came closer to Benden Weyr. Those very strange – at least to young Melvar – thoughts almost always involved comments on the weather, especially the sun, and wild herd beasts. The thoughts he heard this morning though, had been even more confusing; something about 'catching her'? The boy grew suspicious as he waited for an answer.

"Those are the dragons of Benden Weyr! You hear dragons too!"

"Who itches?"

Mara laughed. "That's Klamath, and I need to go take care of him. Would you like to help?"

Melvar shrugged reluctantly. He'd never seen a dragon before. As the big man who'd come with her approached, Melvar moved behind Mara, again afraid of being captured.

Mara introduced the boy to G'raden and, _hearing_ his fear, explained that Melvar didn't like to be touched. G'raden was understanding and merely bowed slightly to the boy. Melvar's situation was explained very briefly as Mara needed to get to Klamath. G'raden, with Melvar's reluctant approval, would help the boy collect his belongings and follow.

G'raden was somewhat dismayed to learn the boy had no possessions; even the clothes he wore belonged to one of the other boys in the caravan. He was far more bothered by the fact _everyone_ was anxious to see the boy leave. Could such a young boy really be that much a terror?

The head caravaner stated the train would reach Benden Weyr in the morning. He joked that he didn't want their women subjected to frustrated bronze riders. G'raden joked back that more likely he didn't want to risk losing any of the women to eager-to-please bronze riders. Melvar watched both men as if they were some odd cross between wherries and Thread, but followed the bronze rider without even looking back at the train.

Conversation was difficult as they walked to meet Mara and the dragons. G'raden tried to learn more about the boy – where he was from, where he had been, what he liked and disliked – but Melvar gave only single word answers or shrugs. As G'raden's thoughts remained friendly and kind, Melvar relaxed a bit, finally giving answers with several words.

The boy grew silent as they walked closer to the dragons. He was amazed at the size of Normond, who effectively dwarfed that really big woman. He _heard _Klamath complain about unbearable itching and Mara trying to sooth him, and he _heard_ Normond ask someone named Arlith if he and his rider could bring some oil. Mara was rubbing the tiny brown with something – one of the scratchy bushes? – but to no avail; the baby dragon was miserable, and hungry.

Melvar stayed back as the two riders shared the big man's gloves to rub the baby. He was so entranced by the two dragons, he barely noticed Arlith answering Normond; they were on their way down. So a sudden torrent of wind from a landing dragon frightened him into the nearby bushes. From his safer vantage point, he witnessed yet another huge bronze dragon. The rider slid down its side laughing heartily.

"Did I scare a tunnel snake off the road?" The rider glanced at the bushes as he untied the bucket of oil from Arlith's harness. "Well, come on out little one! Dragons much prefer herd beast to scrawny little snakes." Pretending to ignore the boy, he walked quickly to Klamath.

Melvar was stunned; that voice, that laughter. The man was more muscular than he remembered, but working with dragons might do that. "Poppa?" The word was no more than a whisper. He stood and walked onto the road, his eyes glued to the newest big man, barely noticing Arlith as he passed by his bulk.

_Good day, little one._

The boy jumped aside, but managed a friendly _Good day . . . dragon._ He walked more quickly toward the other people as the big bronze huffed.

_The little one is like you,_ said Arlith to his rider.

_Is he now?_ G'regg, oil delivered and in use, turned around and looked at the boy who walked as if in a trance. He tried to remember who the boy reminded him of.

"Poppa?" Melvar, tears in his wide eyes, ran the last short distance and hugged the big man tightly around the waist. "Poppa!"

G'regg was shocked; he'd been taking preventative herbs since his first relationship resulted in a 'possible' pregnancy. Certainly, no woman had ever introduced him to a child supposedly of his making. He loved children, but didn't trust his ability to parent well. He gently moved the boy's skinny arms from around his waist and knelt to speak gently to the weeping boy. "What's your poppa's name, lad?"

"Varegg. Your name's Varegg, Poppa!" The boy's voice was a high pleading squeal.

G'regg gasped and went pale. He hadn't heard that name in nearly thirty Turns. "My name is G'regg, son. It used to be Garegg. Varegg is my younger brother."

"You're not my poppa?"

"No, son, but I am your uncle." The bronze rider put a meaty hand to the side of the boy's face. "What happened to your poppa?" When the boy's face scrunched and his tearing eyes closed, G'regg pulled him into a hug. "It's all right boy. You're with family again. You're safe here, and you are loved." After several minutes of comforting the boy – and regaining his own composure – G'regg chuckled. "What's your name, nephew?"

The newly joined family got to know each other while the whole group moved to the lake to bath a more comfortable little brown. While Klamath was being oiled again, Normond took off and soon returned with a young, but injured forest runner beast, which Klamath enjoyed immensely, being the first in his class to have any wild meat.

As the group walked slowly – due to Klamath's bulging belly – back to Benden Weyr, G'regg, holding Melvar's hand, moved alongside G'raden. "It's time we revisited our home, brother. We've unfinished business. And, it's time for your weyrmate to learn another of our secrets."

G'raden nodded reluctantly at the first declaration, but looked worried about the second.

"She's an open mind. She'll deal with it." To Mara he _said, Your secret is safe with me. Is mine with you?_

Mara was more surprised than she should have been. If Melvar's father was Skilled, why not his uncle as well? _It is, but we're looking for people like you and Melvar._

_I'm not ready for that just yet, but I will help the boy to become more comfortable with his . . . 'Skill' as you call it. And why are you keeping yours from G'raden?_

_Weyrleaders' request. Supported by the Masterharper._

_We'll just see about that._

The four adults discussed G'regg's Skill at hearing people's thoughts while Melvar wondered why Mara's Skill was still a secret. Mara _overheard_ G'regg explaining to his nephew. _Because our Weyrleaders want her to keep it secret. So, we keep it secret, even from my good friend G'raden. Understood?_

G'regg had apparently been the first in his family to have telepathy, and in the presence of his despotic father, very quickly learned to hide the ability. His younger brother, Melvar's father, had also been born with the Skill, and G'regg had helped him to hide it, despite Varegg's youthful carelessness – something Melvar may have inherited.

G'regg was determined to help his young nephew to deal with his ability without alienating those around him. He was also anxious to know why Benden's Weyrleaders and the Masterharper of Pern were seeking out Skilled people; what did they intend to do with such people? G'regg would not tolerate being used in the way his friend had been used as a boy. Nor would he tolerate his newfound nephew being used by _anyone _– even his Weyrleaders, as much as he respected each of them; the temptation to misuse these abilities – 'Skills' as Mara called them – was too strong.

As they neared the ground entrance to the Weyr, Normond launched into the air to fly up to the ridges; the sun was too lusciously warm to be anywhere else. Arlith remained and spoke to Melvar trying to ease his concerns about flying; the boy had a very reasonable fear of falling after surviving the Big Falls. G'regg was glad he'd donned the bronze's riding straps and explained that neither of them would fall off even if Arlith chose to fly upside down, which of course he wouldn't with a first time flyer – at least not until that flyer requested such. Melvar actually giggled at the thought of any dragon flying upside down, but was eased into accepting a quick ride from the magnificent and friendly bronze.

Soon, Mara and G'raden were alone again with Klamath as he plodded through the long tunnel. The little forest beast was easily the largest meal the little brown had ever eaten. He didn't regret even one delicious bite, but definitely wished the tunnel were shorter.

As they rested again in the loading cavern, Klamath's eyes took on a mischievous shade. He spoke to both riders, adding to the jovial tone of his statement. _Normond says that touching lips is even more interesting than touching hands._

"Is that right?" asked Mara as G'raden laughed.

_Arlith agrees._

"Truly?" asked Mara as she fought her mirth. G'raden's belly laugh didn't encourage success with her act of indignation.

_Do you like to touch lips?_

"I do!" declared the man so vehemently that Mara lost her battle, giggling behind tightly clenched lips.

_Mara?_

"Yes, Klamath, I like touching lips too. It's called kissing, but I don't think you're ready for that just yet, my love."

_Why not?_

G'raden nearly ruptured his gut with laughter.

_How will you know when I'm ready? I'd like to see what Normond was talking about._

G'raden stifled his laughter long enough to say, "There's only one way to find out if he's ready, Mara." Her blush delighted him, and firmed his resolve. "A quick little peck should tell us all if Klamath's ready for any more."

Mara rolled her eyes. Kissing G'raden was as exciting as hugging him was comforting. But to kiss him with an audience? With innocent Klamath as the audience? Well, she supposed Normond had been witnessing their previous kisses and more than likely everything else they had done. Her face threatened to combust with the rising heat of her just realized embarrassment.

"Are you sure, Klamath? I don't want to scare you." As an addendum to her previous thought, Mara wondered how many dragons had _heard_ what she and G'raden had done. Mental huffing answered that question and she closed her eyes and shook her head.

_I won't be scared. Touching hands doesn't scare me; why would touching lips?_

Klamath had obviously forgotten about his first reactions to G'raden, for which Mara was grateful, but . . . It took considerable more coaxing from G'raden, Normond, and even Arlith – which did not encourage Mara in the least – and the unsolicited, cautious approval of Ayrieth to convince the weyrling to accept a 'quick little peck'.

The little brown looked suspicious. _That wasn't very interesting._

_That was _not_ a proper kiss,_ chimed in Mnementh, causing Mara to groan with yet more embarrassment and G'raden to laugh. _Try again, riders._

They did try again, but only after G'raden explained to Klamath the need to place his hands on Mara's shoulders for a steadying effect.

After a much more proper kiss of approximately two heartbeats – three or four in Mara's quivering chest – Klamath had had enough. _Whoa. Stop! What's wrong with your knees?_

"My knees are fine, love." With her knees firmed up again thanks to G'raden's strong, steadying hands, Mara crouched to speak face to face with Klamath. "That's just part of the thrill of kissing a good kisser like G'raden."

_Do it again!_

G'raden howled as Mara hung her head. "No, my love. I don't think I can handle any more this day. Tomorrow, maybe?"

The remaining walk – still slow due to settling forest runner beast – was spent talking to the little brown about different levels of love. The shared love of humans and dragons was the most special and the most satisfying, of course, followed at some distance by the love of a special human, as in a weyrmate or a spouse – the human version of life-mating. Human life-mates though, seldom remained so for their entire lives, especially among dragonriders because the happiness of their dragons was far more important than fulfilling any human promises. Wise dragonriders, said G'raden, didn't make promises they may not be able to keep, and merely enjoyed their weyrmate's companionship for as long as it was comfortable and fulfilling for riders and dragons. Next was the love of family and/or friends; not quite as intense as a weyrmate, but hopefully just as fulfilling in a non-sexual manner. And then there was the simple love of all – or most – people and dragons and life in general.

Along the way, Klamath, after some coaching from Normond, suggested that holding hands might make his rider feel better. As they walked, G'raden slowly and carefully 'took' some of Mara's pent up and riled up sexual energy. When Mara noticed, she looked worriedly up at the man. G'raden, though, explained that he would sleep better if he knew she was resting well this night. His loving smile prompted Mara to relax and thank him for his help.

As they passed the storage caverns, Cally popped her head out and grinned at the pair of big riders and just as quickly disappeared back into the cavern. G'raden then reminded Mara that all dragons shared their thoughts and experiences, but especially little dragons. They would eventually learn to guard their riders' privacy with help from the older dragons, but until then . . . well, privacy was just a fantasy; one more reason non-weyrbred people had so much trouble transitioning to the realities of Weyr life. But, he elaborated, such sharing of their riders' encounters also prevented any – or most, recalling the stories of Ista Weyr – of the abuses that might occur outside a Weyr.

As they walked through the living cavern, Klamath with tail held high and not even swatting anyone, much to Manora's approval, several full riders winked at the human pair. Mara was even more embarrassed, but G'raden walked a little taller wearing a big smile. Mara _heard_ his minor embarrassment but liked his cavalier attitude and tried using it herself; she held her head high and refused to blush when male riders eyed her with mild, playful lasciviousness. She quickly learned that if she didn't blush, the men's fun was interrupted and they would leave her alone much quicker.

The past and future weyrmates were able to talk considerably more that day, as Klamath had not yet been forgiven by the greens and Mara not yet accepted by the boys. They were even allowed to hold hands on more than a few occasions. The humans ate the evening meal with G'raden's friends while Klamath took a nap near the Hatching Cavern which was currently vacant and talked even more until all weyrlings were called to the barracks for sleep time.

Melvar spent the remainder of the day with his newfound uncle, meeting almost all the most important people of the Weyr; Manora first, Lenarra, the cooks and their helpers, some of the other Lower Caverns residents, the beast master, the weyrlingmaster. The Weyrleaders would have to wait until the next day as they hadn't yet shown themselves, which the entire Weyr took to be a very good omen for Benden Weyr's immediate future. B'nor was so thrilled to meet his 'brother's' nephew, the boy instantly felt he had just inherited another uncle. Melvar spent the night in G'regg's weyr where he slept better than he had in well over three Turns, after finally weeping silently in his uncles arms over the loss of his loving parents.

For both Melvar and Mara, Benden Weyr was feeling more and more like a home.


	32. Progressions

The next day's first weyrling class was dominated by a discussion of Mara's 'transgression'. L'ret, in his typically gruff manner, grilled her repeatedly on exactly what had happened the previous day in minute detail. Afterwards, Mara was certain he had asked her to repeat at least twenty times that 'Klamath requested this' or 'Klamath suggested that'. Following G'raden's example, Mara hid her embarrassment with an act of total self-confidence.

At one point, another weyrling asked if she would be punished for breaking the rules. L'ret glared at the brown weyrling for an uncomfortably long time before declaring, "No, she will not be punished. Weyrling Mara did everything right yesterday. She was in a position she knew was against the rules but avoided any intentional physical contact with Bronze Rider G'raden until Klamath suggested they touch. She watched and listened carefully for any signs of distress from Klamath and ceased her activities when he became bothered. She never forced or coaxed her dragon to accept what she might have wanted, and showed remarkable restraint. Weyrling Mara will not be punished for yesterday's adventure."

L'ret's eyes moved from weyrling to weyrling, assessing their acceptance of that decision. His gaze finally settled on one green weyrling. "Some of you might well be punished though. S'ret, tell us why."

The young man stood as was customary, but hung his head in shame. "We need to wait for our dragons to be ready, sir."

L'ret knew how shamed the boy felt over his lack of restraint but pressed on. "Stand straight, Weyrling! You made a mistake, but no one died. Learn from that mistake! Good." He then proceeded to grill him, minus the intimate details, in the same way he had Mara. S'ret and R'ned had given in to temptation yesterday and had been too far gone in their 'adventure' to notice their dragons' distress. As a result, green Erneth had attacked and bitten R'ned on his exposed backside, thinking the blue weyrling was hurting S'ret. R'ned would be in the Healers' Cavern until his wounds healed and would have trouble sitting for some time to come. In addition to caring for R'ned's blue, S'ret would be on latrine duty until the blue weyrling was released, and R'ned would take over the same duty for as long as he had been out of commission. Their cots had been moved to opposite ends of the barracks and neither boy was permitted to speak or even look at each other until their dragons each took their first mating flights. All weyrlings and full riders were tasked with making sure they did not repeat their serious lapse in judgment. Neither young dragon was seriously harmed, but they might both experience some inhibition when it came time for their first mating flights. Only time would tell.

After all that, only one weyrling had the nerve to ask a question of his aggravated weyrlingmaster. B'roghe was curious about the possibility for privacy now that they were bonded to dragons who shared so much with other dragons. Being holdbred for more Turns than most of his classmates, B'roghe wondered just how much adjustment he would need to make once he was finally able to recommence those special activities.

L'ret actually grinned at the young man. Leave it to B'roghe to find a way to remind others they would not be able to hide their misdeeds. "You will never again experience privacy like you did in a Hold. Your dragons always know what you are doing." He purposely left out the fact they were oblivious during a deep sleep. "And, until they learn discretion, so will every other dragon in the Weyr. So, unless you like being teased, I strongly suggest each of you learn and exercise discretion along with your dragons."

The weyrlingmaster then grimaced – or perhaps winked – at the cause of this day's disruption. "Weyrling Mara. Based on what I have heard and witnessed this morning, you have earned the right to tease quite a few classmates next time you hear something through Klamath that should have been kept private."

Mara heard his slight emphasis on 'through Klamath' and nodded her acknowledgement of that distinction. Her robust "Yes, sir!" drew an almost unanimous groan from her fellow classmates. Only Angalyn and S'ret had not teased her in some manner this day.

The class ended with a lengthy discussion of what could be expected from young dragons as they approached sexual maturity. Klamath was quickly forgiven for his completely natural behavior the previous day, and several green riders apologized to Mara for being so defensive. Mara had no complaints; Klamath's curiosity and the green riders' irritation had led to some pleasant time spent with G'raden. And, she no longer worried about the bronze rider possibly choosing gold instead of brown; he had made his choice quite clear on repeated occasions, much to Mara's delight.

oOoOo

While the newest weyrlings were in class, G'regg arranged a meeting with the Weyrleaders to discuss the ongoing problem at the Hold he had been born into. Melvar accompanied him, first to finally meet F'lar and Lessa, and then to tell what had happened to him and his parents.

Lessa had been informed that the boy was Skilled at telepathy and witnessed his ability when he would back up in his story to answer questions barely forming in her mind. She tested the boy by wondering why an eight Turn boy would make up such a horrific story. Melvar, so intent on giving all the details of his ordeal – except the _hearing_ people thing – and not paying attention to the thoughts around him, quickly informed her rather indignantly that he was almost ten.

Lessa's smile and G'regg's moan was the boy's first clue that he had erred. Melvar appeared ready to run as he realized his mistake, until G'regg put an arm over his shoulders and said consolingly, "It's all right, boy."

Lessa promptly asked G'regg if he also heard thoughts, which frightened Melvar even more. His father had died because he had admitted his Skill after all. Melvar nearly cried as he shook his head at his uncle, desperately wanting him to simply lie.

"We _never_ lie to our Weyrleaders, Melvar," said G'regg gently. He then turned to Lessa and answered in the affirmative.

F'lar laughed, declaring he had always known there must be more to G'regg's aptitude for 'reading' people. And Lessa wondered out loud how many more in this very Weyr might also be hiding their Skills.

Lessa's pointed look at the bronze rider indicated she expected an answer. G'regg sighed, knowing she would eventually find that answer. "I know of at least two others at Benden Weyr, besides Mara and Brendeen, and Dalgarn and little Felesia. But none of us want this to be general knowledge. We've all had our share of troubles due to this 'Skill' thing and none of us like being feared."

F'lar turned very serious. "We have no intention of making these Skills public knowledge, G'regg. But they do exist, and according to Brendeen quite a few people feel extremely isolated because of them. Our goal in bringing the Skilled together here is to help them: to learn to deal with their Skills, to know they are not alone and hopefully to develop some sort of ethical code to avoid misuse of these Skills. Eventually, all of Pern should know of your existence, but for now I believe Aivas has given us enough to come to terms with."

"It would be helpful," began Lessa, "to know whose 'opinions' might be most reliable."

G'regg grinned almost lecherously. "I'll speak to them, but it needs to be their choice."

Both Weyrleaders nodded and said, "Agreed!"

Melvar relaxed considerably on _hearing_ confirmation of the Weyrleaders' reasons for finding Skilled people and after some friendly discussion of his abilities, was sent to help Dalgarn and Felesia in the kitchen.

G'regg then reminded the Weyrleaders of what had happened in his small hold thirty Turns ago and shared that Melvar had confirmed similar disgusting practices as of three Turns ago. He had only been discovered when he yelled at another boy to run; the man calling him wanted to hurt him. G'regg, G'raden and B'nor would like to return home and try to rectify the situation.

F'lar shook his head regretfully. "This is not a Weyr matter, G'regg. We can talk to Lord Holder Kashman and even offer assistance, but we can do no more."

G'regg rolled his eyes. Having dealt with the self-important, backward, ungrateful man before, he held little hope that talking to him now would solve anything. More likely, it would cause even more problems.

Lessa felt the bronze rider's despair and smiled. "The key, I think, is to find the right person to speak with the Lord Holder. He does listen to his 'darling little girl'."

Brendeen was called to the Council Chambers as soon as her first class was finished. She had already been told by Mara about Melvar's circumstances and was already quite angry that such things could happen in Keroon. She was far from ignorant of the backward ways of some of the hill people, but had not been aware of such egregious violations of the Charter. G'regg was asked to fill her in on the events that took place in the same hold thirty Turns earlier.

Brendeen grew more and more angry with each detail, and finally blurted, "I need to speak with my father! This cannot be permitted to continue!"

Lessa and F'lar smiled as G'regg studied the surprisingly strong willed young woman. She was not simply blustering to express frustration; G'regg_ heard_ that she had every intention of rectifying this situation and was already formulating a plan for dealing with her father.

Within a few minutes, two second-Turn weyrlings were dispatched; one to Keroon with a message for Lord Holder Kashman from Brendeen, and one to Masterharper Sebell from F'lar and Lessa.

A short time later, as Brendeen was extracting more unsavory details from G'regg, the first weyrling returned. Kashman was frantic to prepare his Hold for Threadfall this afternoon; his steward had disappeared and left him to prepare the entire Hold. Brendeen laughed; Derilan had been planning to leave Keroon for at least two Turns now, but her father had refused to believe the man could desert his own home, and therefore refused to allow anyone else to be trained for the position. She was also quite sure that Derilan had not simply disappeared without being certain all of Keroon was prepared for his departure. Brendeen was truly happy for Keroon's ex-steward; he had been working on acquiring a small Hold in Southern and apparently finally achieved his goal. The Lord Holder had asked the weyrling to pass on a verbal message; he would try to come to Benden Weyr early on the morrow.

oOoOo

The remainder of the morning was spent unloading the tithe train. All but three weyrlings assisted – Angalyn was on light duty in the Healer's Cavern, S'ret was busy cleaning latrines, and B'rand felt himself above resorting to drudge activities. As the tithes were all stored to Manora's satisfaction and trading tables were set up, L'ret and Lessa made the rounds of the weyrlings. Each weyrling who had helped, and Angalyn, were given a quarter-mark apiece to spend or save as they wished. L'ret was pleased to report to Lessa later that most of the weyrlings had shown excitement over crafting mark-bags for their belts later that day.

oOoOo

That afternoon, a select group of people – anyone aware of the Skills manifesting in the people of Pern – were invited to the Dining Cavern for a 'small' Birthing Day party for Felesia. At Manora's insistence, the Weyrleaders officially hosted the party, not that they minded. Also in attendance were Mara and Brendeen, Dalgarn of course, G'regg and Melvar, and at G'regg's insistence, G'raden and B'nor. L'ret found a few minutes to make an appearance, and T'men brought Masterharper Sebell as well. Several Lower Caverns people attended, not because they knew about the Skills Felesia possessed, but because they adored the 'odd little girl'. Harper Selikar played a small gitar throughout the party and was thrilled when the little girl and Melvar sat and watched him play through several tunes. And just about every other member of the Weyr managed to pass through the Dining Cavern to offer Birthing Day wishes and welcomes on their way to obtaining some small something.

With Dalgarn's help, noticed Mara, Felesia seldom gave evidence of her Skill, and when she did, those who were surprised simply chalked it up to her lovable oddness.

Felesia was overcome with joy at the sight of the cake Manora had made just like she had described to Brendeen; the flowers of Benden in late summer were different than those of the Igen plains, but when arranged so artfully were just as beautiful. Felesia graced Manora and the Weyr baker with big hugs for their efforts on her behalf.

Gifts had been quickly arranged based on what Dalgarn had learned of the girl's interests: some of the Lower Caverns women had stitched a brand new special dress for the girl; Dalgarn had made a stiff hide pouch to attach to a belt for collecting pretty rocks; G'regg and Melvar gave her several different sizes of soft hide bags for those same rocks; G'raden, having spent so much time in Landing, had found a small, simply decorated box with stacking, divided trays for storing special rocks or other items; T'men gave her a small hide satchel with a good supply of paper leaves for drawing; Sebell gave her a small set of pipes just like her father had enjoyed playing; Selikar offered to teach her to play the pipes; L'ret surprised everyone by gifting the girl a lovely youth-sized scarf of luxurious fabric; and Brendeen gave her several pretty hair ribbons.

The Weyrleaders' gift was by far Felesia's favorite though; they had commissioned a stuffed, light tan wherhide dragon in the perfect size for a six Turn old girl to hug. The hide, explained F'lar to the girl on his lap, could be dyed any color Felesia chose, though green or gold would be most appropriate. Felesia, in her youthful innocence, asked the Weyrleader if it could be dyed pink, which caused considerable laughter. F'lar responded that he had never seen a pink dragon – wouldn't that be lovely? – but he would talk to the tanner about a pink dye.

Mara felt a bit guilty about gifting her with the sash she had worn the night of her introduction to the Weyr – it was actually Weyr property – but Felesia was thrilled with the color and promptly wrapped it expertly around her head and neck in an Igen fashion. All the women asked for a demonstration of her technique while Melvar made faces at them, causing the girl to giggle.

As she surveyed all the gifts she had been given, Felesia suddenly broke into tears. Dalgarn collected her onto his lap as she explained that this was the very best Birthing Day she had ever had, and no one was scared of her, and she hoped they never would be, and she even had her very own dragon and pretty things to wear . . . and friends. As Dalgarn soothed the girl, Lessa declared an end to the party; she – Lessa – could use a bit of a nap before the evening meal. Felesia, even through her tears, thanked everyone for coming as they left the Dining Cavern.

oOoOo

Lord Holder Kashman visited the next day two candle-marks after the morning meal. When Lessa later commented to Brendeen that this was hardly early, the weyrling laughed; anything prior to midday meal was extremely early for her father.

Brendeen and Saraneth were participating in marching exercises when a blue dragon from Igen Weyr announced his presence to the watch dragon. As her father was unaware of her _hearing_ abilities, she pretended to not notice his arrival. When she saw him marching toward the formation though, she and her gold broke formation without permission as the weyrwoman-in-training transformed into a spoiled Holder's brat.

L'ret appeared genuinely annoyed at the weyrling's inappropriate behavior even though Brendeen and Lessa had informed him of the 'act' she would be revisiting on the Lord Holder's arrival.

Brendeen squealed with delight over her Daddy coming to visit. She ran into his arms as Saraneth followed at a more regal pace, irritation visible to anyone familiar with dragons, but not to Brendeen's 'daddy'. The not so little gold's hissing at the Lord Holder as they were introduced was easily explained away by the fact she was not accustomed to meeting new people yet.

The threesome adjourned to Brendeen's and Saraneth's shared weyr, Brendeen popping into the kitchens to request some klah be delivered. In the weyr, Saraneth settled onto 'her' couch and watched her rider and the man who turned her into a chattering fire-lizard.

Lord Holder and daughter talked of family trivialities until the klah and some leftover morning pastries were delivered by a young, wide eyed and shaking boy.

"Oh, thank you sweetums! Come sit with us, Melvar." Brendeen's exaggerated sweetness had the desired effect on the boy; suspicion quickly overshadowed his nervousness at speaking with a Lord Holder.

For his darling daughter's sake, Lord Holder Kashman exercised what he felt to be great patience while Brendeen coaxed Melvar to share his story. His poorly disguised irritation necessitated considerably more coaxing though, and a good deal of telepathic encouragement from Brendeen, but finally Melvar's story was relayed to Keroon's Lord Holder, followed by Brendeen's indignation that any such thing could possibly happen in beautiful Keroon.

"You have to do something about those people, Daddy! Please?"

"And who is Holder there . . . Melvar?" The Lord Holder had considerable trouble addressing a child drudge by his name, but humored his daughter.

"Greggoran, Lord Holder. My grandfather."

Brendeen pretended renewed shock. "Your grandfather had your mother and father thrown in the river?"

"Yes, ma'am. And me."

"This has to stop, Daddy. The same man also scared his oldest son and two other young boys away some thirty Turns ago. Fortunately, he and his friends were searched and brought here to Benden Weyr."

"This has been going on for thirty Turns?" The Lord Holder's reluctance to get involved in such an inconsequential matter was far too obvious even to the non-Skilled. He tried to cover with, "I suppose I should meet this man."

"Exactly! We don't want anyone to think that Keroon offers safe harbor to such . . . deviants! Do we, Daddy?" The girl gently placed the scene of a poorly attended Gather in her father's mind, complete with whispering behind hands and suspicious looks toward the Lord Holder. She knew he'd received the image when his eyes grew wide.

"Exactly! Bring me this man you spoke of, now!"

Brendeen asked Saraneth to notify Arlith and was surprised by her gold's assertion that her rider could just as easily call his rider. Saraneth did as asked though and G'regg arrived within a few minutes.

Lord Holder Kashman was somewhat touched by the way the drudge boy brightened at the sight of the bronze rider. The sight of the big man lifting the boy into his arms caused him to wonder about the wellbeing of his own young sons; he would have to check on them when he returned home.

There was a bit of tension when the Lord Holder realized this was one of the men who had taken that big, ugly woman from his Hold without permission, but Brendeen went on and on about what a wonderful friend she was so Kashman put aside his negative thoughts about the odd woman. He listened to the big bronze rider describe conditions in his home Hold – minus gory details, apparently for the boy's sake, but which Kashman somehow visualized unbidden – and was dismayed that his own father had never done anything about such a travesty. Now, unfortunately, that duty was his, and he didn't even have a steward to handle the matter for him. Perhaps . . . no, Brendeen was looking to her father to fix this mess, so fix it he would . . . somehow. Perhaps the Hold Harper could finally earn his keep and offer some suggestions, or even assist with the likely confrontation. He was supposedly highly trained in diplomacy; let him prove that training.

Lord Holder Kashman promised his daughter – and by proximity, much to his dismay, the wingleader and the drudge boy – that he would deal with the problem Holder, but stated it might take some time to uncover all facts first.

oOoOo

Within a sevenday, the youngest dragons at Benden Weyr began taking to the air. The smallest greens were first to fly short distances through the mile long bowl. Weyrfolk quickly adjusted their walking paths to accommodate the sometimes awkward, low level flights. As the blues began flying, most of the greens were already flying full circuits of the bowl. There were a few minor mishaps; one little green for example – whose rider still had trouble differentiating left from right – lowered the wrong wing at the southern end of the bowl. Quick instructions from observing dragons helped her skid to an extremely awkward landing inside someone else's weyr. Fortunately, she had folded her wings quickly enough to only suffer minor bruising as she skidded and rolled into the older dragon's stone couch. Her rider was once again subjected to extensive drilling on directions.

Klamath was the first brown to fly, despite being nearly the largest of the six browns in this class. He flew almost the full length of the bowl, turned so awkwardly he nearly flipped upside-down and flew all the way back to the lake. He tried to land on the shore a wingspan from his rider, but landed with his weight too far forward on his hind legs. A quick push with those legs and an extra flap of his wings sent him back into the air just high and far enough to dive almost gracefully into the lake. As he resurfaced, his eyes showed terrible embarrassment, but the applause of the weyrlings and the weyrlingmaster's "Good thinking, Klamath!" quickly improved his mood. Mara was so proud of her growing brown, she cried happy tears for all to see.

Tagamarth was the last of the bronze dragons to take flight, despite his rider's insistence that he could do even better than any of the other dragons. When he finally took his first flight almost the full length of the bowl and back, it was nearly flawless, though his landing was slightly awkward. His rider focused on the flaws though, deriding the momentarily proud bronze for such poor performance. What should have been a confidence boosting experience soon became another failure to please his rider. All the older dragons praised Tagamarth though, for such a wonderful first flight, and encouraged him to keep working hard; eventually, they promised, young B'rand would realize what an amazing dragon he had managed to impress.

The weyrling golds were last to take flight, almost a full month after the first greens, and seemed to have observed and learned from all the mistakes made by their 'underlings'. When they did take to the sky, both at the same time, they were magnificent. The entire Weyr stopped whatever tasks they were performing to watch two still small golden dragons fly side by side up and down the entire length of the bowl. There turns appeared choreographed at each end of their circuit; neither came close to colliding with each other or the smooth rock walls of Benden's double crater. Their landings were rather awkward – Biradeth had to run a few steps to keep from sprawling and Saraneth missed one of her steps, causing her to land on forearms and then her chest – but they both quickly resumed their queenly postures and began preening themselves as the entire Weyr applauded their performance.

Hide-craft training began as soon as the greens started their short flights. First projects included belts for carrying necessary dragonrider tools: knives – though they would not be issued for quite some time - gloves, helmets, and of course numbweed, and the universal metal D hooks for fastening riding straps. With these projects, weyrlings learned proper hide selection criteria, tooling, stitching and finishing techniques, oil selection criteria and oiling techniques, and the proper use and attachment of buckles. Embellishments at this stage were discouraged though several of the girls, Mara included, were interested in working flowers, vines or other decorative designs into their belts. By the time the golds took their first flights, the weyrlings were beginning work on their first riding straps – adjustable and expandable until their dragons reached full growth.

Aerodynamics – a word revived by AIVAS though the study had been continued since Faranth's time – were discussed at length as well; how dragon wings function, the effects of different air currents, how oxygen levels change at different heights, how wing or tail or head movements affect flight paths and so on.

Dragon health assessments continued every sevenday. Dalgarn studied L'ret's hides on dragon anatomy and quickly came to be of great help to the dragon healers and Lessa. Felesia 'assisted' Dalgarn but had to be continually reminded to ask the riders' permission before hugging their little dragons who were now much taller than her.

Melvar 'assisted' G'regg in everything he did with the exception of flying Thread; he even sat in on wing meetings. G'regg tutored him nearly constantly on his reactions to other people's thoughts and explained more than once how unkind thoughts were not always an indication of a person's true personality. How the person dealt with those often unbidden thoughts was a far better measure. When his uncle fought Thread, or met with the Weyrleaders, Melvar spent time with Dalgarn and Felesia, helping with whatever they were doing.

The two young newcomers to the Weyr might easily have been mistaken for siblings if their skin tone, build, hair and eye color hadn't been so very different. Felesia followed Melvar like she might a solicitous older brother, and Melvar teased her like he might a younger, annoying sister. And yet, they could often be seen sitting quietly together seemingly just watching activities in the Weyr. Very few were aware of the telepathic conversations the two youngsters shared; often discussing things they had _heard_ from Weyrfolk or learned from the older Skilled people in the Weyr.

oOoOo

One evening near the middle of this exciting month, Mara returned to the Istan weyr for a book she wanted to return to the Library. As this was now late summer, most weyrlings were outside enjoying the last relatively warm evenings of the Turn. On entering the weyr though, Mara heard Cally playing her pipes – a slow, sad melody disrupted occasionally by sniffs.

Mara peeked around the temporary wall. "Cally?" The girl's tear-stained face turned to her, seemingly begging for a comforting hug. Mara sat and pulled Cally onto her lap. "What's wrong, sweetie?"

Through her more vocal sobs, Cally managed, "I can't talk about it. Healer's discretion."

Mara rocked the still small girl and _listened_ for clues. What she _heard_ merely confirmed what she had observed over the last several sevendays. "Is this about Angalyn?"

"I can't . . ."

"I know she's having trouble keeping a balance with her eating and exercise. Is there trouble with the baby?"

Cally leaned harder into Mara's hug. "I can't talk about it."

"Shhh. Discretion can be hard, can't it?" Mara soothed and rocked for awhile longer. "Does she have another hard choice to make?"

Cally pushed away far enough to plead with her eyes. "She could die, and she won't even talk to me. She and Nayrith are hiding in one of the occasional rooms and won't talk to anyone."

"Hmm. Maybe she's heard enough of other people's opinions and just needs to figure out her own."

"But, she could die!"

It didn't require any effort to discern from Cally's thoughts that Angalyn's diabetes was not going well, and that the healers' believed the added stress of the baby could kill both mother and child. "Everybody dies, Cally."

Cally slid off her friend's lap and stomped back a few steps. "She's too young to die!"

"I agree, Cally. Let's just hope she agrees. Give her some time to think about everything. I'm sure Nayrith will have some say too, you know."

"But she needs to decide soon. The longer she waits, the harder it will be, and if she waits too long, it could be too late." Cally's face scrunched as she tried to not reveal any of the facts she'd been tasked, as an unofficial healer's apprentice, with keeping private.

The healer's felt, after exhaustive research at the Aivas facility, that Angalyn's diabetes at such a young age combined with her pregnancy was far more dangerous than they had ever imagined. The Ancients had drugs – one called insulin – that could help youngsters survive diabetes even through a pregnancy, but the development of such drugs and the necessary monitoring equipment was far away in Pern's future even with Aivas' help. The healers and the smiths needed to relearn so many things before they could even begin. At this point in Pern's redevelopment, abortion was the most promising option for Angalyn, but her aversion to such a procedure – she was too far along now for herbs to work efficiently – would most likely kill her. Being taken _between_ might accomplish the distasteful deed, but except in the most dire of emergencies, weyrlings were never taken _between_; it was simply too frightening for their young dragons.

"How much difference will it make if she takes a day or two to think about it?" asked Mara.

Cally stopped stomping and turned, her fear-induced anger quickly changing to cautious hope. "A day or two won't make much difference, but if she takes a sevenday . . ." She shook her head slowly.

"Then give her tonight and tomorrow. Tomorrow night, we'll talk to her, all right?"

With that agreed, Cally accompanied Mara to the Library, but was too lost in her own thoughts to choose a book for her own use.

The next afternoon, after being excused from weyrling classes for medical reasons and again spending most of the day in her chosen occasional room, Angalyn reached her own decision for reasons that made sense to her and Nayrith. The next day she would undergo a procedure in Benden Weyr's Surgery to remove the tiny being from her womb. Mara and Cally supported and comforted her that night while helpless D'don ran needless errands to and from the kitchens and spent considerable time talking with B'roghe or L'terick or occasionally L'ret just outside the weyr.

The procedure went well with Masterhealer Oldive assisting Master Healer Tarminas and Journeywoman Loralin as Mara and Cally held Angalyn's hands and talked about Nayrith and weyrling training and just about anything else that came to mind. Afterwards, the young green weyrling spent the night in the section of the Healers' Cavern reserved for dragon and rider pairs. Her weyrmates took turns, with L'ret's full approval, keeping her company, though D'don was clueless about how to help her. B'roghe accompanied the blue weyrling and managed to elicit laughter from the girl as he told stories about his childless auntie who he, all his siblings and all his cousins loved, respected and minded like a second mother.

Over the course of the next few sevendays, Angalyn could be seen smiling more often and crying or moping far less often. She began to transform into a young woman thrilled to be alive and even more thrilled to have the constant companionship of her beautiful, healthy green dragon.

oOoOo

About a sevenday after Saraneth and Biradeth took their beautiful first flights, L'ret gathered the newest weyrlings and their dragons into a circle in the bowl. He questioned each on the progression of their riding straps and asked for confirmation from the full riders assisting in their creation. After determining that nearly half the class did indeed have passable safety straps, he made an announcement that caused a great deal of excitement for most of the weyrlings.

The next day, some weyrlings – those who had been most diligent in preparing their riding straps – would begin riding their dragons!


	33. First Time Dragon Riders

Thank you to all reviewers! You keep this going.

Just a reminder: Dragonriders of Pern is not mine. Shards!

* * *

Free time that evening was chaotic. Most weyrlings were ecstatic about the possibility of riding their dragons the next day. Mara however, was skeptical; Klamath's front shoulders didn't quite reach her own when he stood on all four feet and the little ones had only just begun flying. How could they possibly carry their riders? And wouldn't that increase the risk of injury at this young age? The thought of flying with Klamath was irresistibly tempting, but the fear of hurting him curbed that temptation.

And some of the weyrlings – those raised in the Weyr – were acting rather smug, as if they knew something important, but were enjoying the excitement anyway. Mara _listened_ to them a bit and quickly realized she had nothing to worry about.

The Istan weyrlings – like all the others – spent the evening working frantically on their riding straps. K'remin, on guard duty that night, answered questions, tested the strength of straps and stitching, and offered advice when appropriate, all with a knowing smile and while keeping one eye on activities near the weyr. Dragonets, though they would have preferred to sleep, stood for fittings and tests of strap comfort with little complaint.

B'roghe and his closest young followers joined the Istans after their dragons had fallen asleep, too confident of success to be excited any longer this evening. As the youngsters bounced and giggled and played at flying among the cots, B'roghe and Mara backed out of the enclosed portion of the weyr.

B'roghe, too, was concerned about L'ret's promise; Dandreth simply wasn't big enough to ride yet. B'roghe stated flatly, but privately, to Mara that he would refuse to ride his bronze until he was quite a bit larger.

"L'ret would never let us hurt our dragons," offered Mara.

"Nor would anyone else in this Weyr," added K'remin from his chair at the entrance. "Don't worry weyrlings. Get some rest."

oOoOo

The next day, after morning runs and chores, bathing and oiling dragons, feeding dragons and eating their own morning meals, the weyrlings were ordered to line up beside their dragons with riding straps ready for inspection.

With the help of several full riders, each set of straps was inspected; first by experienced hands traveling the full length and then by tugging, one man on either end to test the strength of the hide and the weyrlings' stitches. Several sets were deemed unacceptable, either because they were far too rough to ride on a dragon's hide or because they broke when tugged upon. A few weyrlings had not yet finished their straps but were offered compliments when deserved for their good work and advice for improvements when needed.

All the straps of the Istan weyrlings and B'roghe's followers were found to be not only acceptable, but quite good. B'roghe's prior experience working with runner beast tack and his patient assistance was greatly appreciated by more than half the weyrlings this day.

As straps were found to be acceptable, weyrlings were tasked with outfitting their dragons with help and advice from full riders. A few more weyrlings lost the possibility of riding this day when their straps ended up too short; they would need more sections. All the weyrlings would have plenty of practice stitching wherhide sections before their dragons reached full growth.

More than half the class stood tall next to their strapped dragons as L'ret walked along the line picking out more weyrlings who would not ride this day. Angalyn, Cally and D'don were all passed by without a word, which caused Cally to giggle and bounce with excitement. Weyrlings of all color dragons were chosen seemingly at random to leave the line. B'roghe was selected and grinned with relief, not sure why he had been eliminated, but certainly not willing to complain. B'rand was selected as well and demanded to know why. L'ret simply said the time was not right and ordered the weyrling to remove his riding straps, unlike any of the other disqualified weyrlings. When B'rand mentioned that fact none too tactfully, L'ret faced him squarely – which caused the boy to cringe – and calmly repeated his orders, adding that the straps should be put away for the day. B'rand offered a weak 'yes sir' and visibly relaxed when L'ret continued his inspection.

And finally, Mara was selected. Her firm 'yes sir' gave no hint of the hurt she felt. As she and Klamath walked to the spot, away from the others, L'ret had pointed them toward, she laughed at herself. Just last night, she had agreed with B'roghe and was willing to join him in refusing L'ret's orders for Klamath's protection, and now she was hurt that she wouldn't have the opportunity to hurt Klamath? Klamath agreed with her assessment of such thoughts; they were unwarranted and just plain silly.

The remaining weyrlings were then allowed to mount their dragons, again with assistance and advice from older riders and now their dragons. A few more were eliminated when it was discovered they had forgotten their connecting straps or riding belts. Mara offered to loan her connecting straps to D'don, but L'ret declared for all to hear that unprepared dragonriders were no better than grounded weyrlings. Perhaps the next day, weyrlings would be more prepared. D'don was noticeably embarrassed by L'ret's decree, but accepted it with remarkable grace as he walked with Gredarth to join the others who would not ride this day.

Mounted weyrlings, full of excitement accompanied now by varying degrees of fear – some had never ridden a runner beast, a dray beast or even an elder's back, and none had ridden a dragon without being strapped to another rider – were then instructed on how they would spend the next few candle-marks. They would _walk_, very slowly to start, in a figure eight pattern. They would familiarize themselves with the movements of their dragons and their dragons would become familiar with carrying a rider. Riders would pay especially close attention to their dragons' physical wellbeing; any discomfort, no matter how slight, should end the exercise for that pair. A twinge in a muscle could indicate the need for more development before carrying a rider's weight. Irritation under a strap could necessitate more work on those straps. Either problem or any number of others, if ignored, could cause irreparable damage to a young dragon. L'ret studied each of the mounted weyrlings to be sure they all understood the significance of that statement.

Satisfied – and knowing older dragons would also be monitoring their younger siblings – L'ret then 'requested' Tianna and Biradeth to lead the exercise. When a youngster asked innocently why a bronze wasn't leading, L'ret stated very patiently – for he knew from experience that many repetitions would be needed – that bronze dragons lead in the fight against Thread and gold dragons lead inside the Weyr and most other times.

As the first-time dragon riders began their slow circuit complete with several surprised squeals and considerable giggling from at least one little green rider, L'ret turned his attention to the non-riders. A pained groan from Tagamarth diverted him though.

B'rand, in his fury, was removing the bronze's straps with flourish and little care for where buckles might connect to dragon hide as they flew. L'ret quickly walked up behind the boy and caught a strap as it was swung through the air. He held it there as he grabbed the boy by the arm to spin him around. B'rand shrieked and Tagamarth growled as L'ret glared down, so tempted to strap the boy with his own riding straps.

Wingleader G'regg had been helping prepare the new riders when he _heard_ B'rand's anger and L'ret's far greater fury that anyone would be so careless with his own little dragon. He arrived at L'ret's side in time to firmly grasp his wrist as it began its downward swing to deliver the first blow. "I'll take that for you, Weyrlingmaster."

L'ret's twitching face glared at the bronze rider, momentarily revealing his revulsion at what he was about to do to a mere boy, and by bonding his dragon as well. He relaxed his arm in surrender and nodded gratefully at G'regg.

"Your orders for the little fool, sir?" asked G'regg as he removed the strap from L'ret's hand. He grinned menacingly at L'ret's first thought: _between_.

"Firestone! See if you can keep him from making so much dust!"

"Yes, sir!" G'regg took L'ret's other wrist in his strong hand; L'ret was still holding B'rand by the arm with a grip of steel. When the weyrlingmaster relaxed his grip, G'regg turned his attention to the boy. "Pick up your straps, fool. Carefully!"

As the bronze rider turned toward the weyrling, L'ret clamped a hand on his shoulder and squeezed briefly, but firmly, in gratitude for his timely rescue. G'regg's grinning nod confirmed his understanding and renewed an ongoing promise: dragonriders always protect each other, even from themselves.

L'ret, unable to face the remaining weyrlings until he regained his self-control, tried to sooth Tagamarth. When the bronze hissed at him despite Duranth's reassurances, he shook his head with sorrow. "Mara!"

"Yes, Sir!" All the non-riding weyrlings had been watching in horror, but Mara had been _listening_ as well. She hadn't been surprised by L'ret's anger, but the intensity of that fury had been unexpected. She and Klamath quickly walked to join their weyrlingmaster.

Mara was tasked with assessing any injuries Tagamarth might have suffered. She was clueless about what to say to help L'ret as he took deep breaths to more quickly regain his composure, so concentrated on the little bronze. After _hearing_ the weyrlingmaster return to himself, she finally reported that Tagamarth would have a couple of bruises, but there were no deeper injuries, at least to his body.

L'ret thanked Mara, both for the report and for giving him a little extra time – he knew her assessment would have been almost instantaneous once she touched the little bronze - and turned back to the remaining weyrlings.

One by one, he explained to each weyrling why they had not been permitted to ride this day. Some, like B'roghe and Mara and a few others, were taller in the shoulder than their dragons. Some of the holdbred were still a little chunky even after all the exercise they'd received at Benden Weyr. And some had some very obvious problems with their riding straps. As the first two issues would simply take time to correct, he focused on the strap problems.

While most of their straps had been found to be acceptable in experienced riders' hands, on their dragons they were lacking in several areas. The placement of buckles on some would cause irritation or even pain to the dragon or rider. L'ret pointed out one little green who was already showing wear on her hide from a poorly placed buckle, and had a brown weyrling mount to show how his buckles would wear on his knees thus digging into his brown's hide. Neither weyrling complained, and were in fact grateful when L'ret suggested they remove their straps and consider how to better fit them. They, those whose straps had been found inadequate, and those still working on their straps, were excused to work again with the Weyr Tanner and several assisting riders.

The remaining non-flying weyrlings were ordered to walk around while paying attention to their dragons' comfort. Even the best of straps could likely use more work.

oOoOo

"Why do you call a brown rider sir?" B'rand tried to sound innocent, but his disgust seeped into his words.

G'regg chose to ignore the lack of reference to his own rank – this time – and spoke calmly but firmly. "That 'brown rider'," he mimicked B'rand's tone perfectly, "is the third highest ranking rider in this Weyr. He trains all future riders, including bronze _and gold_ riders. Any weyrling with half a brain would learn all he could from that brown rider."

They walked in uncomfortable silence – at least for B'rand – to the pile of raw firestone awaiting further processing. G'regg was finding the boy's thoughts quite interesting; he seethed at the knowledge that Mara was actually touching Tagamarth. And worse than that, Tagamarth was responding to her calming physical and mental touch. _Flame that ugly herdbeast! _was the kindest of the boy's thoughts toward the brown weyrling.

At the firestone pile, two second-Turn weyrlings worked feverishly at breaking the large phosphorous-bearing rocks into smaller pieces, each repeatedly hefting a heavy double sided mallet/pick. As they seemed to be engaged in some sort of competition and each was unwilling to stop first, G'regg let out a short sharp whistle to get their attention. "Are you boys being punished for something?"

The blue weyrling grinned wide. "Oh, no, Wingleader!"

The brown weyrling also grinned. "We're on the board, sir."

"Ahh." G'regg feigned slight suspicion. "Well, now it's B'rand's turn. You two find something else to do."

Both young men bounced to their feet and chimed in unison, "Yes, sir!" They carefully handed their mallet/picks to the bronze rider, bowed to the Wingleader, nodded at the younger weyrling and promptly left the area at a run.

Bronze rider and bronze weyrling took seats on well worn rocks at either end of the large flat boulder used for breaking firestone and sat the riding straps they each held aside. G'regg handed the boy one of the mallets, handle first. "So, why were you so angry down there?"

"He had no reason to not let me ride my dragon!"

"He had very good reason."

"He should have told me."

"As he's probably doing with the others right now. A weyrling's job is to obey orders without question."

"I have a bronze dragon!"

And that put the boy above a brown weyrlingmaster? Interesting. "And what does that mean to you, boy?"

"I'm not a boy! I'm a bronze rider!"

G'regg howled with laughter, even knowing how it intensified the boy's anger. As B'rand turned red with anger and clenched his mallet tight enough to keep blood from flowing through his fingers, G'regg grinned at him. "You are a foolish boy, Weyrling! You will _never_ be a bronze rider until the Weyrlingmaster – who just happens to be a brown rider – says so."

"But the Weyrleader . . ."

"No. The Weyrlingmaster decides who can and cannot leave weyrling training."

"But he's a _brown_ rider!"

"He's a brown rider with decades of experience as a wing rider and over a decade as a wing second, and half a decade as weyrlingmaster."

"But he's not a bronze rider. How can he teach me to be a bronze rider?"

"What do you think is the difference between brown and bronze riders, boy?"

"Bronze riders are the leaders. Brown riders follow, just like all the others . . . except gold."

"Let me tell you something, foolish weyrling; most brown riders, and quite a few blue riders, and even some of the green riders have just as much ability to lead as do the bronze riders. Some even more! The only reason bronze riders tend to be wingleaders is because their dragons can fly higher and longer. Granted, bronze dragons tend to be leaders among the other dragons, and they tend to choose lifemates who have the same potential, but not all bronze riders live up to the potential their dragons see in them."

"Like the herdbeast's boyfriend?"

"The herdbeast?" G'regg was fairly certain he knew to whom B'rand was referring, but gave the boy a chance to explain.

B'rand, so focused on his anger at Mara and L'ret, never picked up on the wingleader's agitation. "That brown rider, Mara."

G'regg closed his eyes and took a long, slow, almost calming breath. When he opened his eyes to barely a squint, and _listened_, he knew the boy finally realized his mistake. "Number one, fool, Mara happens to be a brown _weyrling_, just as you are a bronze _weyrling_ until Weyrlingmaster L'ret, a brown rider, says differently. Number two, fool, Mara's _boyfriend_ happens to be my best friend since childhood, and his name, boy, is Bronze Rider G'raden. I strongly suggest you remember that. Number three, fool, if my best friend hadn't already staked a claim on Weyrling Mara, I most certainly would be actively pursuing the title of _her_ _boyfriend_ as would several other riders I know_._ Number four, foolish weyrling, Bronze Rider G'raden will most likely be a Wingleader long before you ever graduate to mere bronze rider, thanks in large part to Weyrling Mara." As the boy had gone more and more pale with each statement, G'regg chose not to continue. After _hearing_ some of the derogatory names the boy used in reference to Mara in his thoughts though, he changed his mind. "And number five, Weyrling, my name is Wingleader G'regg. You will call me such from now on, or you may call me 'Sir'. Is that understood, Weyrling?"

B'rand was tempted to defy the man with a simple 'yes', but on seeing his large hand readjust its grip on the mallet that looked so small in his hand, he thought better of that defiance. "Yes, Sir."

"Very good." G'regg accepted the words, but took note of the thoughts. "Now, get to work."

"But, why didn't he let me ride Tagamarth?"

"Later. You have work to do now. Raise your kerchief, boy." Breathing firestone dust could be damaging to lungs.

After tying his kerchief – standard dragonrider, and weyrling issue – around his lower face, B'rand picked up a large chunk of firestone, set it on the boulder and hit it with the mallet, smashing it into pebbles and dust. He reached for another chunk and was about to raise his heavy mallet, when G'regg stopped him.

"Stop. Look at what you've already done. How much of that can be used by a dragon?" When the boy merely shrugged his shoulders carelessly, G'regg moved to a closer sitting rock and began fingering through the debris. "These pebbles might be usable, but it would also be very easy for Tagamarth to swallow them into the wrong stomach and this dust could easily be inhaled. Do you know what firestone does to a dragon if he swallows it wrong?" The boy's color faded, indicating he knew perfectly well, at least in theory. "When we break up firestone, we break it as if it were for our own dragon. You never know which bag of firestone you'll be given when you're fighting Thread, and you don't want to take extra time feeding Tagamarth something like this. It could cost both of you your lives."

Using personal references seemed to have an impact on the boy, so G'regg patiently showed him the proper way to break up firestone into fist-sized chunks. He would point to where the pick should be driven and point out which large rocks needed a _controlled_ smack with the flat mallet. The boy was interested in doing it right and responded well to G'regg's individual and patient attention.

As they worked through breaking up enough firestone to fill several bags, G'regg occasionally asked seemingly irrelevant questions. During the course of the morning, he learned from the boy's words that his parents were long dead, he had no siblings or aunts or uncles, and he didn't remember which Hold he had been born into. He had been searched from the kitchens at Bitra Hold, and sure, he wanted to be a dragonrider; it was better than being a kitchen drudge.

From the boy's thoughts though, G'regg learned that the boy sincerely hoped his parents and uncles were dead by now, and that he'd lied about remembering his Hold. Other, deeper thoughts suggested the boy had worked hard at not thinking about family or home since he had run away, and had no intention of discussing either now or ever. Bitra Hold had been his salvation – hard as that was for the bronze rider to imagine – after running for at least two seven-days, and being searched had been the most amazing, unexpected, wonderful event of his entire life. Oh yes, his thoughts revealed, he desperately wanted to be the best bronze rider ever. But how?

The boy's hand was beginning to hurt from lifting the mallet, but he chose to ignore it despite Tagamarth's concerns. G'regg decided to let the boy push himself. How far would he go before complaining? And how could a boy his age be so accepting of pain? Was he from another Hold like the one G'regg, G'raden, B'nor, and now little Melvar, had escaped? How many such Holds existed on Pern? Except for his own, G'regg had heard of very few until recently.

G'regg promised himself he'd try to spend more time with the boy. He was hiding something, possibly even from himself, and G'regg saw that as a challenge. More important though, the boy needed someone's help to overcome whatever he was hiding from. He would never be even a passable dragonrider while carrying so much hate and fear and anger. As they finished filling a fourth bag with firestone, G'regg was pleased that his strong hints about how to get along with L'ret and the other weyrlings were being processed by the boy. Hopefully, all he needed was some individualized instruction in the basics of social behavior. G'regg knew he could help with that – at least up to a point.

When B'rand finished tying up the last bag, G'regg asked to see his riding straps. He fastened them together and inspected them carefully. "Come here."

That was a mistake; the boy was suddenly full of fear of the big man with straps in his hands. G'regg changed his approach. He ran the straps around his waist and pulled a buckle across his back. "Do this, and tell me what you feel." He carefully handed the straps to B'rand and watched as he did as instructed.

B'rand's sour visage changed to shock as he ran the same buckle across his back. "What's that?"

"That's why Weyrlingmaster L'ret wouldn't let you ride Tagamarth. Didn't he tell you it hurt? Arlith knew."

B'rand studied the offending buckle with a scowl. "He's always complaining about something. He acts like a girly-boy."

G'regg _listened_ to the confusion of emotional thoughts running through the boy's mind, everything from fear and shock to desperation, embarrassment, and finally anger. He sat down and motioned the boy to hand back his straps. He ran his thumb over the uneven stitching that caused a lump and spoke as if simply filling a void. "A dragon's memory is extremely short. He might remember what he did yesterday, but it's very unlikely he'll remember the day before. Each time he feels pain, it's a new and frightening experience. Part of a dragonrider's responsibility to his dragon is to ensure he never feels any pain. It keeps him fearless when fighting Thread. We tend to any pain or even discomfort immediately. That helps to build trust with our dragons." He handed the strap back to B'rand. "Look at this."

B'rand sat next to G'regg, too involved in his strap problem to realize their proximity, and studied his work. "How'd that happen?"

"Turn it over." G'regg carefully reached a hand closer and pointed at the stitching. "Your stitching is uneven. That's what caused the puckering. The tighter it's pulled, the more it puckers . . . and digs into Tagamarth's hide."

"Then, I need to redo it?"

G'regg nodded. "I'd suggest cutting it off here. This hide is too damaged to salvage."

"But then I'll need another section."

"You'll need lots more sections before Tagamarth reaches his full size. Each section will be better and easier than the last. And when you're ready for his fighting straps, stitching them will be second nature, as easy as using the latrine."

B'rand scoffed, and even blushed, before fear once again rode through his mind, quickly squashed by anger.

G'regg backhanded the boy's knee and stood. "Roll those up neatly and let's get these bags put away. Wouldn't want to be late for midday meal." He stuffed the two mallets into his belt, picked up two of the firestone bags and turned to watch the boy rolling his straps into a tight spiral. He sat the bags down and held out a hand. "Let me show you a better way." When the boy reluctantly handed over his straps, G'regg rerolled them into a loose but neat set of loops. "Now put them over your shoulder and you'll have both hands free."

The coiled straps slid right off B'rand's slight shoulder, so G'regg suggested he run them over his head and across his chest. B'rand actually grinned momentarily when both hands were free to move around, until he picked up his two heavy bags of firestone.

All the firestone moving during the last couple of months had given the boy a bit more muscle, but not enough to keep up with the huge wingleader he followed toward the storage cavern. He tried though; wanting very badly to show this bronze rider that he too would make a good dragonrider. When one hand cramped, he dropped that bag and quickly lost his balance, falling over the second bag. "Shards!" he exclaimed.

G'regg turned around, after wiping the smile from his face, to check on the boy. He didn't appear injured as much as embarrassed, so G'regg walked casually back to him. "You all right, boy?"

B'rand was just regaining his feet and brushed his hands together. "I'm fine," he said belligerently. When the wingleader cleared his throat, he quickly added, "sir."

G'regg sat his bags down and held out his hands. "Let me see those hands." When the boy reluctantly held out his own hands, palms up, G'regg gasped. "Shards, boy! Why didn't you say something?"

B'rand's left palm – the one he had used to wield the mallet – was red and covered with broken blisters. "I'm no girly-boy!" he snarled, but did belatedly add "sir."

G'regg dropped to one knee and took the boy's hand in his as he reached for the numbweed in his belt pouch. "Girly-boy, my arse, boy! You're a weyrling, bonded to a bronze dragon. What'd I tell you about taking care of our dragons?"

"His hand isn't blistered . . . sir."

"But he feels everything you feel. He's probably worried sick about this." The big man poured some numbweed onto the boy's hand and spread it around with one big finger.

B'rand closed his eyes to hold back tears of relief, determined to be a real man like Wingleader G'regg. Anger helped. "He's such a girly-boy!"

"He's no such thing, boy. He's your bonded lifemate. He cares about you more than anyone else ever could." The boy's disbelief prompted another approach. "Dragons learn fearlessness by never being allowed to fear anything. If we allow them to fear, they get used to it and that can cause problems when fighting Thread. We give them everything they need and tend to every little hurt so they never fear anything."

With the numbweed spreading finished, B'rand tried to remove his hand from G'regg's – to no avail. The wingleader held on.

"Don't touch it 'til it dries." With that, G'regg released B'rand's hand. "Do you think I'm a girly-boy, weyrling?"

"No, sir! You're a bronze rider!"

The big man, still on one knee, grunted as he grinned at the boy. "Shardin' right, son! But if I so much as scratch my hand or bump my knee, I make way to the healers because it bothers Arlith so much."

"Really?"

"Shardin' right. Part of taking care of our dragons is taking care of ourselves – even scratches or belly aches." The weyrling's thoughts revealed disbelief – visit the healers for a scratch? "No one in this Weyr will ever think less of you for taking care of yourself, B'rand. Though, they might if you try to hide something like this . . . because it hurts Tagamarth."

G'regg stood, picked up the firestone bags two in each hand and began walking again. "Come along, weyrling. We're not done yet." He grinned as he _listened _to the boy think about all he'd said this morning, and hoped it would make a difference in his future performance.

B'rand followed along as G'regg stowed the firestone bags, cleaned the mallets with explanations, and put them away. He was then escorted to the Healer's Cavern to have his hand tended properly.

Master Healer Tarminas was on duty in the Healer's Cavern and while he was quite friendly to the weyrling, he was anything but to the Wingleader escorting him. He even pulled the bronze rider into a small room, prepared to scold the man for allowing a boy to hurt himself so.

G'regg passed along everything he had learned that morning. Tarminas was one of the few in the Weyr who was privy to the list of Skilled people in residence and soon appreciated the wingleader's attempts to connect with this problem weyrling. Tarminas was a healer of the body – skin, bones and even some organs – but was only beginning to delve into the mental aspect of the body's health. G'regg, however, even though he never more than stepped foot in the Healer Hall at Fort Hold, had been studying the human mind since early childhood – not from a Healer's perspective at first, but from a survivor's. Only after impressing Arlith did he begin to find personal satisfaction in helping those with mental issues.

As Loralin finished bandaging B'rand's hand, complete with age appropriate flirting which didn't go over too well, Tarminas gave stern orders for the care of that hand to both boy and bronze rider. He tried using personal references, bringing in Tagamarth, to underscore the importance of seeking help at the slightest hint of pain and not using the hand until cleared by the Master Healer himself.

B'rand, to G'regg's obvious approval, managed several contrite "Yes, Sir"s as the Healer seemed to drone on about taking care of himself and his little dragon. G'regg put an end to the lecture by sniffing the air and declaring that midday meal was being served; the weyrling needed to recoup his strength after such an arduous morning.

In the Dining Cavern, L'ret was not pleased with B'rand's injury, but seemed somewhat appeased when G'regg informed him the boy had filled four bags with perfectly sized firestone with very little dust. B'rand was uncomfortable with the approving attention of his weyrlingmaster, not at all sure how to deal with it, but covered his discomfort fairly well. G'regg made note of that for future discussions with the boy.

Before leaving to obtain his own meal, G'regg asked B'rand if he didn't have something to say to the weyrlingmaster. They had discussed the need for apologies on occasion and the fact that bronze riders never shirked admitting their faults, especially to other riders.

B'rand was embarrassed, and a bit angry at the bronze rider, at the prospect of apologizing in front of his entire class, but when G'regg reminded him that all had witnessed his little tantrum, he did manage a passable apology to the brown rider weyrlingmaster. As a result, he was given far more positive attention during the meal than he was accustomed to. He managed to stay polite, but had trouble finding appropriate responses to the questions and comments of his fellow weyrlings, so tended to answer with one or two words at a time.

All at the table, including L'ret, believed that B'rand was now finally attempting to fit in with his classmates. Later in the day though, as G'regg relayed what he had learned about the boy, he also informed L'ret that the boy was hiding something from his past so deeply even he was likely unable to access it.


	34. The Dragonets Are Growing

Thank you for your patience! Spring is here, and the need to prepare gardens and the yard.

As always, DRoP is not mine, but most of the characters in this story are.

Thank you all for your reviews! I love them!

* * *

B'rand's riding straps were fixed and extended with considerable help from Wingleader G'regg. The boy responded well to the man's patient, but careful instructions covering all the subjects he seemed to have missed before coming to Benden Weyr: cooperation, compromise, tolerance and simple socialization, among others. G'regg wasn't too sure whether the boy responded out of fear of the big man, respect for his position, the longing for a father figure, or perhaps a combination of all three. It didn't matter to the bronze rider as long as the boy made progress. B'rand did not respond well to G'regg's habitual teasing though, so the bronze rider curbed his natural tendencies; that could be worked on later.

The personal attention the bronze weyrling received from the bronze rider seemed to make a big difference in his ability to associate with classmates and Weyrfolk. He participated more, with less irritation when events did not turn out as he expected, he complained far less when ordered to do less desirable duties, and he followed orders to the best of his understanding. G'regg still worried though about whatever the boy had locked away deep in his mind. Every so often the boy seemed to crack; something would trigger the old fear-filled, hateful behavior, and Mara always seemed to be the trigger. G'regg lost sleep some nights trying to figure out how the big, sweet, brown weyrling might in anyway be connected to B'rand's hidden past.

B'rand's first ride on Tagamarth had been a prideful day for the Wingleader, until the very proud weyrling's smile turned to vengeful conceit as he and his bronze passed close to B'roghe and Mara as they walked beside their dragons.

B'roghe and Mara were last to be allowed to ride their dragons on the floor of the bowl. Dandreth's shoulders reached B'roghe's much earlier than Klamath's reached Mara's, but B'roghe, with L'ret's indulgent permission, wanted to give his bronze a little more time to develop stronger muscles. Quality runner beasts after all, were seldom ridden before they were a full two Turns old and the Holder's grandson had seen the damage done to those ridden too soon.

Mara was not allowed to ride Klamath even when he matched her height. Though she had lost considerable bulk since impressing the brown, she was still rather large. She made no complaint when L'ret suggested with a definite wink that Klamath could use a bit more muscle before hefting such a healthy load. On the day L'ret believed Klamath big enough to carry Mara, B'roghe also decided perhaps Dandreth was strong enough to avoid any injury.

_I'm pretty big, Klamath. Do you really think you can carry me?_

_I know I can! I could even fly you up to Normond's weyr!_

_Oh no you don't! We _walk_ this day. You're not even to flap your wings, my love._

Klamath's head cocked into its defiant tilt. _I will not walk this day until you are sitting on my back._

Mara laughed at her confident little brown and at herself for worrying so much.

Klamath crouched into the pose other dragons had been coached into and snaked his head around to watch his rider.

Mara stepped gently onto his extended forearm and _felt_ carefully for any discomfort. She did _feel_ her boot on his arm, but it was no more uncomfortable than carrying a stack of plates on her own arm. What she _felt_ much stronger was extreme confidence and excitement mixed with a bit of impatience. She put more weight onto his arm and carefully bounced a bit. When Klamath huffed at her, she pushed harder and launched onto his neck, landing between his last two ridges.

"Whoa," said the grinning weyrling as she fastened her connecting straps and cinched them tight.

_I'm not moving._

_That's not what I meant, love. This is so different from sitting on Normond. I like this better, but don't tell Normond._

_He would understand. Can we walk now?_

_Yes, my love. Slowly at first, all right?_

Mara had never been on a runner beast or any other beast, and Normond had done very little walking on their one unauthorized flight together. As careful as Klamath was, Mara's seat still traveled almost a full arm's length from side to side as he walked. As she caught Klamath's rhythm, the brown weyrling looked over at her bronze classmate.

B'roghe's eyes and grin were as wide as Mara had ever seen. With all his experience with runner beasts and other beasts, he was surprised at the difference between his still growing bronze and those other beasts. His thoughts revealed that riding Dandreth, at least on the ground, was similar to riding a stout, short-legged dray beast. He had to console Dandreth over that thought; dragons were not designed to walk after all – flying was their normal mode of travel.

_Do I feel like a dray beast?_

_I don't know sweetums. I've never ridden a dray beast. But B'roghe's right; dragons were made to fly, not walk._

_Then why can't we fly now?_

_Because we need to get used to moving together, and the Weyrlingmaster wants to make sure your muscles are strong enough to carry me._

_You're not heavy; you're the perfect size for me._

Klamath and Dandreth walked side by side in the recommended figure eight pattern. Their riders were quick to catch the rhythm of their movements, Mara due to her exceptional awareness of Klamath, and B'roghe due to his prior experience with other beasts combined with his dedicated attention to Dandreth. The dragons were just as quick to realize how their movements affected their riders, and within days the two pairs were exploring all of Benden Weyr's huge bowl.

On the day the two largest weyrlings in the class took their first walks on their dragons, many of the other young dragons were beginning to run with their riders. The slow progression from walking to running had eliminated any injuries to dragons or riders as each developed new muscles to accommodate moving as pairs.

Cally and Mynth were the first in the class to run, the little blonde being fearless and the smallest weyrling in the class. Of the Istans, D'don and Gredarth were next with considerable coaching from B'roghe walking and running alongside. When Angalyn finally dared let Nayrith run, she could be heard throughout the bowl laughing at the thrill of moving so fast and effortlessly with her beloved little green. Mara and B'roghe were another sevenday behind the rest.

While running on the ground, a dragon invariably needs to use his or her wings for additional balance, and very soon the bowl was full of awkwardly flapping dragons running with their mounted riders. Patterns were quickly set up to avoid collisions, and to allow safe passage for pedestrians. After a couple of candle-marks carrying their riders each day, dragons were then allowed to practice their flying, under direction of older riders and their dragons to avoid any mishaps.

L'ret repeated daily – for the benefit of forgetful dragons – that weyrlings would not be permitted to fly on their dragons for at least another two months, and anyone leaving the ground without permission would be grounded an extra month after their dragons were ready to fly with a load. All the weyrlings took heed; no one wanted to be held back from flying.

Some of the formation drills were now conducted with weyrlings a dragonback. The class was separated into four groups of eight, the smaller groups being much easier to watch as young dragons grew taller than the weyrlingmaster and his assistants. Soon, instructors would need to mount their own dragons to keep an eye on the 'little' dragons.

oOoOo

A few sevendays after Brendeen's cajoling of her father, a bronze Fort Weyr dragon arrived at Benden Weyr carrying Masterharper Sebell and Lord Holder Kashman, who looked quite pale. Rider and passengers quickly ascended the steps to the Council Chambers, soon to be followed by Brendeen, Wingleaders G'regg and B'nor, Bronze Rider G'raden and, a short time later, young Melvar.

Inside the Chambers, Lord Kashman sat much like an errant child. Sebell led the discussion of the happenings at the bronze riders' home hold. Brendeen informed G'regg telepathically that her father was ashamed of something, and fearful of the bronze riders' reactions. G'regg informed her, unnecessarily, that her father was quite safe.

The day before, Lord Holder Kashman and his Hold Harper had taken a healthy contingent of guards to the Hold of Greggoran in an attempt to rectify the situation reported by his darling daughter. How difficult could it be to investigate the allegations and put matters in proper order? But, while Keroon's Hold Harper was highly skilled at appeasing the Lord Holder and even at gently guiding him when necessary, he was not as skilled at diplomacy in difficult situations.

As the Keroonian contingent rode two abreast along the hilly, winding path to the Hold, a young boy, naked and bleeding from what appeared to be fresh lashings, spooked the lead runners and disappeared into the thick underbrush. A guard was sent to find him, but was unsuccessful, returning with several gashes on his face from the thorny bushes. This, bemoaned Kashman, should have been a warning of more problems to come.

The party was not welcomed into the Hold, except by one young woman carrying a baby; everyone else avoided them as if they carried plague. Reggella, despite fearful whispering from her neighbors, offered the entire party refreshments in her tiny cot while the holder was located.

Greggoran, when aroused from his cot, irritably attempted proper welcomes to his Lord Holder, but soon began to rant about his Hold's autonomy even before any allegations had been mentioned.

Keroon's Harper did his best to calm the man, but Kashman began asserting his authority over the small holder which quickly necessitated the guards' restraint of Greggoran. This bit of information took considerable careful wheedling from Sebell to extract from Kashman.

The situation deteriorated quickly until one of the guards thought it necessary to punch the small holder to quiet him in Kashman's presence. Unfortunately, the young guard's over-zealous protection of his lord's integrity broke Greggoran's neck. At this point in the story, Kashman seemed to shrink into his chair, eyes closed, awaiting his punishment from Benden Weyr.

G'regg almost laughed at the Holder, but managed to maintain almost appropriate manners, though his lips wouldn't stop twitching.

Melvar tried to relax the Lord Holder with his declaration. "Keroon is a safer place without my grandsire."

When Kashman looked at the boy with disbelief, G'regg continued. "We all thank you, Lord Holder Kashman, for providing us with details of this matter. I'm sure we'll all rest easier knowing my sire is no longer walking on Pern." G'raden and B'nor nodded agreement.

"But he's your father. Aren't you upset . . ." began Kashman. He stopped when he realized his question might actually arouse the big man's ire.

G'regg grinned at the Holder's misguided fear. "My sire was a sick b. . ." He stopped to avoid foul language in the presence of his nephew.

"Bastard!" finished young Melvar to almost everyone's amusement.

G'regg stared at the boy as if about to scold while B'nor patted him on the back in congratulations and Kashman stared wide-eyed at the relatives of the dead small holder.

Lessa broke the Lord Holder's tension with a slight diversion. "So Lord Kashman, who will be taking Greggoran's place?"

Kashman cleared his throat, thankful for the diversion, but not quite comfortable with the answer he must now supply. "For the time being, on a strictly probationary basis, young Lady Reggella will act as Holder."

"Auntie Ella?" interjected Melvar with a grin similar to his uncle's.

"Reggella?" asked G'regg. He had no sisters when he and his young friends left the Hold.

Melvar, with excited animation, explained. "She's perfect! She wrote messages every sevenday for the Lord Holder, and . . ."

Sebell interrupted. "Which were apparently misplaced somewhere along the way. We will be having a word with the runners on that route to determine their disposition."

Melvar was shocked into asking Kashman, "You never got them?"

_Quite, nephew! You're about to step on the Lord Holder's fragile toes._

Sebell changed the subject slightly. "She seems to have remarkable references, including from Lord Holder Groghe. While fostering at Fort Hold, she managed to earn a place as a minor assistant to Steward Benoroghe. When she had opportunity to speak with Lord Groghe, her intelligent and thoughtful questions truly impressed him."

Kashman would not be left out of this explanation. "And most everyone at the Hold thought highly of her. I'll be keeping an eye on her though."

More discussion revealed that Reggella had been born after G'regg, G'raden and B'nor had been searched. The young guard with the iron fist had volunteered to stay at the Hold to assist in any way he could, though Reggella made it quite clear he would answer to her and not act without her approval. Sebell smiled when telling how Keroon's Harper beamed as he had talked about a probable wedding in the Lady Holder's near future. The young guard's eyes had sparkled with delight at the Lady Holder's conditions, and the Lady's husband had been killed in a rather suspicious sounding hunting accident only a few days after she'd birthed her two month old daughter.

When Kashman grew impatient with the bronze rider's family revelations and irritated at the thought of a lowly guard wedding a Holder, Brendeen pulled him outside to congratulate him on his bravery in doing right by the citizens of Keroon.

With Kashman gone, Sebell lamented the lack of sensitivity in the Lord Holder. According to Keroon's Harper, Kashman's arrogance had escalated the situation far past where it should have gone. G'regg waved away that assessment, declaring his father would not have stepped down any other way; his death was the best outcome for all involved. Melvar nodded agreement, though kept quiet after his uncle had reminded him telepathically that anything said after Kashman's departure was not to leave the Chambers.

Kashman had also been quite reluctant to leave any mere woman in charge of one of his small holdings. His Harper had nearly reached his persuasive limits when one of the elders of the community had mentioned Reggella's service to Fort Hold. If so many people in the small Hold had not spoken up for the young Lady, Kashman had intended to leave one of his most trusted guards in charge, not sure which of the Hold's men had been involved in the atrocities overshadowing the community.

When Melvar asked about his aunt's messages, Sebell shook his head sadly. According to Keroon's Harper, the Lord Holder had been receiving them for Turns, but dismissed them as merely the hysterical ranting of a young girl.

As the meeting broke up and Sebell and Kashman mounted the bronze Fort dragon, G'regg feigned astonishment at his nephew. "Auntie Ella, huh? I suppose it's time for a family reunion, boy."

Melvar bounced under his uncle's gaze. "Can we go on Arlith?"

"We're not walking to Keroon, boy." G'regg winked before marching purposefully toward the Kitchen, his 'brothers' alongside also somewhat excited – though with considerable trepidation – about revisiting their first home and its new Lady Holder.

oOoOo

Klamath had been horrified at the embarrassment he caused his rider the day after she first touched lips with Normond's rider. He and his rider stayed awake far later than normal that night discussing what had happened and why. It had been so easy to keep Lessa's 'secret' locked away into the private part of his mind, but he had been so excited over his rider's responses to that touching, he had forgotten to use his private mind.

The horror of that morning had strengthened Klamath's appreciation of 'discretion' and he had been practicing every day since, insisting Mara touch G'raden every time they happened to meet to test his discretionary powers.

What neither rider nor brown realized was that, with Mnementh's – and therefore F'lar's – approval, Normond was keeping G'raden informed of Mara's whereabouts almost constantly. Rider and weyrling, therefore, 'happened' to meet quite often.

One day, when Klamath was nearly three months old, F'lar and Lessa watched from her weyr ledge as the bronze rider and the brown weyrling walked hand in hand from the Kitchen toward the weyrling barracks. Klamath walked behind them with his muzzle hovering over and slightly behind the riders'.

Both Weyrleaders chuckled when the riders stopped in their tracks, separated, and each glared into one of the brown's eyes, G'raden with fists on his hips and Mara with arms crossed below her far more noticeable – now that she was losing so much bulk – breasts.

"They'll beat Mnementh's record if Mara doesn't wherry out," mused F'lar.

"This cannot be permitted to continue," declared Lessa even as she patted the hand on her shoulder.

"Not in the open, it can't," quipped F'lar. When Lessa did not respond favorably, he added, "Klamath is directing their progress, and Mnementh and Duranth are monitoring his reactions. They, and I, and L'ret, all feel Klamath is ready for the next step in their relationship."

"Poor Mara," said Lessa. "Every time they take another step, L'ret drags all the details out of her in front of her classmates."

F'lar laughed. "She's strong, and she was warned she'd be made an example of in many ways due to her age. They're going about this in the right way at least, and discouraging other weyrlings from trying the same for fear of L'ret's public inquisition."

Lessa could not hide a chuckle at that, but did repeat, "Poor Mara."

Barely a sevenday later, late one cool evening, all the dragons of Benden Weyr began huffing simultaneously when Klamath forgot to use his private mind. L'ret, with Lessa's cautious approval, had permitted Mara to join G'raden in his weyr. Klamath had not been allowed to fly his rider up that high – the two of them were not flying together yet – but he was encouraged to stay in the outer weyr. Ramoth, Mnementh, Duranth, and a few other dragons monitored the young brown's reactions as the evening progressed. He seemed quite comfortable with the situation up until that one point, and quickly recovered to enjoy – in his private mind – the remainder of the evening.

The next morning as Mara began her daily run, L'ret's broad grin was the first clue that this would be an uncomfortable day. Quite a few riders and weyrlings grinned at her with great amusement lurking in their eyes. Mara became a bit worried when Klamath woke and dropped from Normond's weyr with yellow tinted eyes.

_What's wrong, love?_

_Nothing._

_Klamath?_

_I think I forgot to use my private mind._

_Oh._

Both dragon and rider retreated to their private minds for a while as Mara considered the implications of that reluctant admission. When Mara finally questioned Klamath further, she relaxed considerably; the situation was not as hopelessly embarrassing as she had feared.

As she served herself with meat and grains at the fast-breaking meal, G'regg appeared from nowhere to question her. "What's that?" He pointed at a meatroll on her tray.

His mind was closed – he'd learned that trick early on at Benden Weyr – but his almost evil grin indicated trouble. "Sausage meatroll," responded Mara with as much respect as she could muster for the bothersome wingleader.

The man's grin widened. "Just can't get enough, eh?" And he walked away.

The teasing had begun in earnest now.

"What's that about?" asked B'roghe as he walked up behind his glaring classmate. He retreated quickly, but with a grin, as her intensified glare swung his direction.

The teasing abated during the meal, except for giggling and whispering behind raised hands, but Mara already dreaded the first classroom session this day. How far would L'ret delve into details this time?

As Mara walked into the classroom, the giggling and snickering were only partially hidden behind raised hands. As she took her seat, L'ret cleared his throat loudly.

"Weyrling Mara!" barked the Weyrlingmaster.

She stood again, and braced herself for what was coming. "Yes, sir!"

L'ret glared at the woman weyrling and had trouble calming the corners of his mouth. "Did you have a pleasant evening, Weyrling?"

Oh, no! Not this, thought the brown weyrling. "Yes, sir!"

"Good." After several heartbeats, he continued in his faux polite manner. "Did Klamath suffer any ill effects from your pleasant evening?"

"No, sir!" Dear Faranth, where was he going with this line of questioning?

"Good." After several more heartbeats, and a loud throat clearing at sniggering weyrlings, he said simply, "You may sit, Weyrling."

Mara was shocked, but managed as she sat, "Thank you, sir."

L'ret then spoke to the entire class, repeating everything that had led up to last night's adventure. He constantly reminded the weyrlings that 'Klamath asked this' or 'Klamath suggested that', or 'Klamath encouraged that'. After reminding the weyrlings that such interactions must be condoned by their dragons, he gave a barely perceptible nod to one of his assistants.

L'terick, in what Mara was quickly realizing was a planned move, began laughing uncontrollably. When L'ret turned to glare at him, he finally managed to say, "I must say, my favorite part of the whole evening had to be . . ." and he raised a hand in signal to the class.

"WHAT'S THAT?"

Mara's head dropped and her whole body slumped until her face rested in her hands. She shook uncontrollably as the class laughed, some repeating the question her dear Klamath had broadcast to all the dragons of Benden Weyr. She would later learn that his surprised query at the sight – through his rider – of G'raden's arousal had also been broadcast to every single even slightly receptive human in the Weyr.

B'roghe grew worried and placed a comforting hand on his friend's back. "Mara?"

The face she turned to him was deep red, tear-streaked, and still laughing uncontrollably. The bronze weyrling shook his head and rejoined the rest of the class in their mirth at Mara's expense.

Seeing B'roghe's relief, L'ret interrupted the laughter. "Weyrling Mara!" he bellowed.

Mara sat up straighter to respond weakly. "Yes, sir."

"Up front!" barked L'ret.

Mara moaned.

_I warned you you'd be made an example of._

_Yeah, but . . ._

"NOW!" bellowed the Weyrlingmaster.

Mara groaned, which caused considerable laughter, but did manage a weak, "Yes, sir!" She made her way to the front of the class, bumping into several weyrlings on the way – walking through haphazardly strewn chairs was not easy with tear-filled, nearly swollen shut eyes.

L'ret spun her around to face the class and again cleared his throat loudly. When all were silent, he said simply, "The teasing stops now – this very moment. And unless any of you wish to be in this position," he pointed to Mara's feet, "and this condition," he pointed at her red face, "you will all refrain from _any_ sexual activity until your dragons demonstrate their readiness for such adventures."

"When will that be?" asked one blue weyrling with exasperation.

"When your dragons rise to mate, you will know they are ready. Until then, unless you wish to be subjected to the public, detailed questioning Mara has undergone, I strongly suggest you wait. It won't kill you, you know."

While the class moaned and groaned about waiting almost a full Turn, Mara whispered to L'ret. "Now you tell me."

L'ret nearly burst with suppressed laughter. "Could you have waited a full Turn, or more?"

Now, Mara groaned. "No, sir."

"You go tend to Klamath. Duranth says he's looking a bit grey right now."

Mara's smile faded. "Yes, sir. Thank you!" She nearly ran from the classroom. In her embarrassment, she had not been aware of Klamath's distress over the situation he had unintentionally caused.

_It's all right, my love._

_I embarrassed you._

Mara laughed. _A little embarrassment never hurt anyone, dear heart._

_Will Normond's rider agree?_

As she approached her sulking brown, she gleefully reported, _We'll find out soon, love. He's walking this way._

Klamath moaned as his head drooped closer to the ground. Mara reached down and pulled his head up until his forehead rested on her chest and rubbed his jaw and muzzle.

_You did nothing wrong, my dear Klamath. Maybe you weren't quite ready for last night._

_I kept most of it private._

_Yes, you did and I am so very proud of you!_

"Is everything all right?" G'raden's bass voice even caused Klamath to shiver a bit.

The not-so-little brown turned his head to the man, his eyes orangish-yellow and his muzzle almost on the ground. _I'm sorry I embarrassed you._

"Oh, you dear, sweet, little brown." G'raden stooped to lift the brown's muzzle, gently forcing troubled eyes to meet his own. "I would gladly suffer such minor embarrassment again and again and again, if you will allow me to spend more time with your beautiful rider."

_She is beautiful._

"Yes she is, and well worth the minor embarrassment caused by a very minor mistake. We all make mistakes, Klamath, and we learn to live with those made in the past and to avoid making more in the future."

_You're not mad at me._ Klamath seemed surprised.

"That depends, little brown." G'raden grinned at the now slightly worried shade of Klamath's eyes. "Will you still let me spend time with your rider?"

Klamath perked up immediately. _Oh, yes! Last night was . . . fun! And Mara sleeps much better in your bigger cot, and I like sleeping in Normond's big weyr, but I missed Mynth and Nayrith, and Gredarth. _

Here, the brown poked his muzzle uncomfortably close to the bronze rider's groin. _And I won't be surprised next time, so it will be easier to use my private mind._

G'raden chuckled as he rubbed the brown's head knobs affectionately. "Well then, we'll just have to speak with Weyrlingmaster L'ret, won't we?"

_Now?_

"After this day's training. Your training always takes priority."

Later that day, L'ret, and Lessa and F'lar – after pretending irritation at a brown weyrling breaking his and Mnementh's record – did approve of Mara spending her nights with G'raden, as long as her training was not adversely affected in any way. Klamath, after the first few nights, began staying in the Istan weyr sometimes "to keep Mynth and Nayrith and Gredarth company". The novelty of human mating had worn off that quickly and he missed being with his clutch-mates.

oOoOo

Mara continued to spend evening free time with her Istan classmates, not wanting the youngsters to feel abandoned by their older clutch-mate, and not wanting to miss any opportunity to learn what she could about B'roghe.

During one evening's discussion, Angalyn spent an unusual amount of time studying her journal. Everyone noticed her distraction, but B'roghe was first to question her.

"Is something wrong, Angalyn?"

The girl tried to smile even as her face revealed confusion. "I forgot to write in my journal."

"One day shouldn't matter," offered B'roghe helpfully.

Angalyn looked at the bronze weyrling. "I haven't written anything in over a month."

"Could that mean you're getting more comfortable with your diabetes?" asked Mara.

"Maybe. Or . . ." The girl smiled even as her brow furrowed in concentration. "I forgot to eat any snacks this day and it didn't bother me. And I ate a whole bubbly pie at evening meal, and it didn't bother me."

D'don added with mock irritation, "And you ate almost all of my sweet roll this morning."

Angalyn smiled at her friend. "And it didn't bother me."

"It bothered me," grumped D'don with a smile.

Angalyn laughed. "I'll get my own tomorrow."

"Could the diabetes be gone?" asked B'roghe, happy for Angalyn, but also worried she might be misinterpreting her reactions.

"It's possible. Master Healer Tarminas said that on Earth, sometimes women got diabetes when they were pregnant," a still-deep sadness swept across her face, "but showed no signs of it afterwards."

"Maybe you should talk to Master Tarminas tomorrow," suggested B'roghe.

Angalyn smiled at the handsome bronze weyrling. "I probably should. I've missed at least a couple of our meetings lately." When B'roghe looked considerably more worried, she added, "He said that was fine as long as I felt all right."

"And you truly feel all right?" B'roghe's concern was not at all eased by the girl's admission she'd missed meetings.

"I feel better than I have in Turns!" She fought tears as she remembered the last time she had felt so good.

B'roghe moved from the 'boy's cot' to sit next to Angalyn. "What's wrong?"

The girl looked into the kind young man's eyes, and smiled through her tears. "I haven't felt this good since before Mama died."

B'roghe had no idea how to respond with words, so put an arm around her shoulders and gently pulled her into an embrace, which she accepted by laying her head on his chest and wrapping her arms around his waist. The bronze weyrling then stroked her back and curly hair while gently resting his chin on her head.

After a few moments, Angalyn giggled briefly. "My father used to hold me like this . . . before Mama died."

B'roghe winced at the comparison to her father, but continued his soothing strokes without interruption. Only Mara _heard_ the reason the young man had winced; he had been feeling something more than brotherly concern for the girl for some time and was hoping to acquaint her with kinder and gentler mating . . . eventually; the thought of L'ret grilling this sweet girl in front of the class was totally unacceptable to B'roghe.

Mara wished she could tell him what Angalyn was thinking. The handsome and, more importantly, kind young man was already calming her fears of mating, at least with him.


	35. A Good Turn

A/N: Soooo sorry for the long delay!

PLEASE NOTE: **I DO NOT, AND HAVE NEVER CLAIMED THAT ANY INFORMATION IN THIS STORY IS FACTUAL**.

THIS IS FICTION and I get paid NOTHING (except your wonderful reviews) for this time consuming work!

* * *

The dragons in class number 2553-2 at Benden Weyr continued to grow. They and their riders learned something new each day, and most enjoyed the process. As the young dragons required less constant attention, weyrlings were assigned to more specialized training. They began easy and friendly self-defense training, which would progress to more serious exercises as their young dragons became more comfortable with the concept of 'play fighting' and the need for self-defense – an alien concept within the Weyr. They began learning different flying formations – although on the ground until they were permitted to fly with their dragons. Harper training continued – F'lar and Lessa wanted all their personnel to be as well educated as possible, a symbol of the best of possibilities for all the people of Pern. And the weyrlings were rotated among the various specialists throughout the Weyr.

Each dragonrider at Benden Weyr was expected to be familiar with each job within the Weyr. Not that they were likely to work many of those jobs; the idea was to expose each of them to the detailed intricacies and necessity of each of the Weyrfolk's positions. No one at Benden Weyr failed to contribute to the workings of the Weyr, with the exception of the very young and two very elderly and frail Lower Caverns people who had faithfully served the Weyr since before the current Pass began; one was blind and crippled with joint-ail and the other's mind was reverting to childhood. Neither had any desire to leave their home of over thirty Turns like other elders had, moving back to their original homes or to the Southern Continent. Both were included in daily activities, but neither was able to contribute much more than their presence, though the blind woman was full of stories and the man would sometimes surprise all with crystal clear detailed snippets of memory.

Each weyrling soon found a niche where their skills and interests would serve the Weyr to everyone's advantage. Cally, of course, helped the Healers and learned all she could for her upcoming apprenticeship at Healer Hall. D'don found – to his and many others' surprise – he was interested in learning hair styling techniques from Andre, and also learned much more about dealing with people. Andre was a surprisingly good mentor, and never took advantage of such a young boy, though he did answer all of D'don's questions, even the ones his father would have dismissed as highly inappropriate. Angalyn helped in the crèche and thoroughly enjoyed watching and helping the children of the Weyr develop. She sometimes wondered about her child, but quickly reminded herself of the time he or she would have taken away from Nayrith, if, of course, she had even lived to see the baby. B'roghe learned and helped with all the mechanical workings of the Weyr, being most fascinated with the Ancients' use of Rukbat's solar energy both for natural lighting and creating electricity.

Mara found plenty of activities of interest for which she had at least some skill. Weaving caught her interest most of all, and she definitely had the talent and the patience to create evenly woven pieces of fabric for various uses by Weyrfolk. But she soon became frustrated at not having enough time to actually finish anything she worked on. And she often lost track of time while rhythmically running the shuttle back and forth between the warp threads. So she also learned to knit and crochet and piece together clothing and quilts. What finally caught and held her interest was the form of stitching Aivas called embroidery. She didn't work on anything elaborate like a Holder Lady might, just simple embellishments to various clothing items. This was a job she could take to her and G'raden's weyr to work on any time she had a few minutes free, and while not a vitally necessary job at the Weyr, it was highly appreciated by many. She did make a small weaving loom with help from one of the Lower Caverns men and was able to weave smaller items – like scarves and lengths of fabric for later piecing – in an evening or two or three, often experimenting with different yarns, patterns and colors. She also helped the women who specialized in scented cleaning sands. Mara's sense of smell was not as sophisticated as the well-practiced women, but her help in mixing large pots of sand was greatly appreciated and she was beginning to learn some of the weyrfolk's scent preferences.

Brendeen of course, learned everything she could about all aspects of Weyr-life as she would be expected to manage Ista Weyr eventually. T'men returned to Benden Weyr quite often both to take a break from Ista Weyr and to establish a working relationship with Brendeen. They were both fortunate to enjoy each other's company and spent equal amounts of time discussing Weyr business and personal matters. With Saraneth's approval and even mild encouragement, they also explored a very personal, but not yet intimate relationship.

T'men was growing more comfortable with the idea of personal relations with such a young girl. Brendeen was indeed mature far beyond her age in most areas. And Reyuth was becoming more enamored of Saraneth with each visit to Benden Weyr. Saraneth though, played the disinterested party; she permitted Brendeen to associate with Reyuth's rider and even permitted Reyuth to spend time at her side, but displayed no outwardly visible appreciation of either male.

B'rand found his niche helping the hunters of the Weyr. He could not yet leave the Weyr, but helped in the constant battle against tunnel snakes and learned all he could about the weapons the elder men of the Weyr used on their routine hunting expeditions for wild meat.

As dragons outgrew the small couches in the Weyrling barracks, they and their riders were moved into some of the lower weyrs. These weyrs all had the extra convenience of stairs leading into the hallways within Benden Mountain and were always kept available for growing dragonets and other riders who could not ride their still-able-to-fly dragons for whatever reason. The privilege of weyring outside the barracks was based on L'ret's trust of each weyrling. S'ret & R'ned, for example, due to their longing looks at each other, were kept in the barracks where they could both be watched more closely.

None of the weyrlings were assigned to individual weyrs, all being partnered with at least one other pair, and sometimes two. Cally and Angalyn remained in the 'Istan weyr', and were still guarded at night. B'roghe and D'don were paired together, and of course, Mara remained in G'raden's weyr. B'rand was paired with a slightly older brown rider who carried enough self confidence and self esteem to mostly ignore the bronze weyrling's occasionally vocal disdain.

As the seasons turned, weyrlings were issued more appropriate clothing and more bed furs. Dragon bathing became more dip-scrub-dip than leisurely, playful, shared bathing. The dragons were unaffected by the chill of the Weyr lake, but their riders were not. After the first chill-induced illness among the weyrlings – minor though it was – all the dragonets were far more conscientious about their riders' health.

As Mara's Birthing Day approached in the eleventh month, she became more excited, anxious and even nervous. G'raden, when he had learned early on when her day occurred, had regaled her with the importance of one's Birthing Day, and stories of celebrations he had attended and received. But, Mara had not heard anymore about such things since impressing Klamath.

Birthing Days were announced early in the first class of the day by the Weyrlingmaster with enough scorn to convince weyrlings he was merely following distasteful orders, but there were no celebrations, or special dispensations from chores, or even extra sweets at meals. Clutch-mates often conducted small celebrations during evening free time, but kept them muted to avoid arousing L'ret's ire.

On the morning of Mara's Birthing Day, G'raden was as sweet as ever but never mentioned the significance of the day. She wondered if he had forgotten – he _was_ extremely busy with some research at Landing and escorting Holders and Crafts people all across Pern – and scoffed at the very notion that her Birthing Day might be of any import when so much was happening all over Pern.

She had not a single moment that day to consider her weyrmate's lapse of memory, as her training kept her physically and mentally occupied to the exclusion of any extraneous thoughts. During evening free time, her fellow Istans gave her small gifts in celebration of the day. She received a pretty circlet of woven grasses for her hair, a braided belt made from scraps of fabric, a promised hair styling, a lovely hide belt dyed a dark shade of green, and copies of embroidery patterns common in Keroon Hold.

When Normond landed outside the Istan weyr with an unusual huff, Mara began to realize that G'raden had not forgotten the significance of the day. His grin was as wide as she'd ever seen and he was both excited and a bit worried about the remainder of the evening.

G'raden's 'brothers' – G'regg, B'nor and T'men! – were all waiting outside G'raden's inner weyr. The weyr's small table and chairs had been moved outside along with several glow baskets. After a wonderful rendition of a traditional Birth Day song in six part harmony – one tenor, two baritones, a human bass, Normond's draconic bass and Klamath's unpracticed, but enthusiastic tenor – G'raden's first 'brothers' excitedly presented her with a beautiful quilted jacket, the source of which they refused to reveal. It would be perfect for chilly evenings when leisure attire was permitted. T'men gifted her with her own copy of the embroidery pattern book she had spent so much time copying and teasingly admonished her to spend more time on the list of books he had suggested earlier. And then the 'brothers' all excused themselves, claiming they needed to rest for . . . whatever chores they each had planned for the next day.

When G'raden, all nervous grin, led Mara into their inner weyr, she was dumbstruck at the sight of a newly crafted, very large bed complete with drawers underneath. While she had been kept extraordinarily busy this day, he, G'regg and B'nor – with the help of their dragons – had hauled the pieces up to the weyr where the Weyr carpenter helped to assemble them. The bed was long enough G'raden could lay with his arms above his head while his feet remained on the mattress, and wide enough that both weyrmates could lay side by side with bent elbows stretched out without touching each other. The mattress was the most amazing combination of smooth firmness and softness; when Mara rolled to her side, both hip and shoulder sank slightly without any of the normal excess pressure at the joints.

"Master Smith Hamian calls this 'foam'," said G'raden as he lay stretched out on his back. "They've been using some of these – smaller though – at the Healer Hall in Southern. They're perfect for people who can't or shouldn't move too much, but they tend to get a bit warm. Master Hamian and the Weaver Crafthall are working on some sort of insulating blanket to place between the patient and the foam – standard sheets aren't enough. It should be rather nice here in Benden though, especially in the coming cold season." He rolled to his side to better view his weyrmate. "The Master asked us to share our opinions of this foam mattress. He's a bit concerned about its durability under . . . normal circumstances."

Mara grinned and began unfastening his tunic neck tie. "Then we should test it thoroughly?"

"Absolutely." G'raden chuckled as her hand moved from his collar toward his belt buckle and caught her hand on the buckle. "But first," Mara's groan elicited more chuckles, "you have two more Birthing Day gifts." He rolled off the bed, tugging Mara along.

"Really? From who?"

"You'll see."

G'raden led Mara to the burning hearth and pointed at a bucket of sand. Mara knelt for a closer look and after brushing away the top layer found a small mottled egg.

"A fire lizard egg?" Her lack of enthusiasm caused G'raden to flinch. She tried to smile up at him, but her concerns far outweighed her thrill. "When will it hatch?"

G'raden knelt beside her and felt the egg. "I'm not sure, but the shell is pretty hard. It could be any day."

"But, I'm in training. How can I impress a fire lizard?"

"L'ret will let you out of class."

"How will Klamath feel about this?"

"Ask him."

"Klamath?"

_I hope its brown like me! Or bronze. Now we'll have help with bathing every day! Canth's little cousin is lots of fun, and now we'll have our own!_

Klamath's excitement lightened Mara's mood significantly, until . . . _You knew about this?_

_Lessa asked me to keep it secret,_ offered the brown with apology. _Happy Birthing Day!_

Mara laughed in resignation. "Lessa knows about this?" she asked G'raden.

"Lessa, F'lar, L'ret, Manora and the entire kitchen staff, and probably a few more."

"How will I take care of a fire lizard? Klamath takes first priority . . . always."

"They don't take much care after the first few days, and there are plenty of people in the Weyr who can help with training."

"Training? G'raden!" Mara was losing her patience. A fire lizard was a wonderful gift, but the timing – she was so busy right now with weyrling training.

G'raden understood. If he had gifted her with such a gift, he would have waited until she had more time to deal with a growing fire lizard. "You should read the note." He turned the bucket until a folded piece of paper was visible tucked between the side and the sand.

Mara pulled out the paper, broke the Harper blue wax seal and began reading:

_ Brown Rider Mara,_

_ Please accept this egg, from Kimi's latest clutch, as a special thank you for your immeasurable assistance at Ista Weyr._

_ Given the opportunity to select who will receive her eggs, Kimi seldom makes the forceful suggestion she did with this clutch. You were the first person she envisioned with this – she selected it specifically for you - precious egg._

_ I hope you will find this fire lizard to be one of the most valuable tools a Harper can possess, second only to her brain._

_ Happy Birthing Day, Mara!_

_ Masterharper Sebell_

"Whoa," stammered Mara as she sat hard on the floor.

"Who's it from?" asked G'raden, a hand on her back for support.

"Masterharper Sebell." Mara handed the first page of the note to G'raden and read the second small page.

It was a friendly note from Sebell's mate, Menolly. The Master Harper had written instructions for ensuring successful impression, and requested she be informed when the egg hatched; she needed a good excuse to visit her many friends at Benden Weyr and would enjoy helping train this little lizard. She signed with her name only, but Mara knew who she was, was extremely humbled by her offer of assistance and impressed by her lack of need to sign with her title.

"Whoa," she repeated as she handed the second page to G'raden.

G'raden was already chuckling as he read Menolly's note. When he finished, he grinned at his dumbfounded weyrmate. "You have friends in high places, my beautiful brown rider!"

"I'm sorry, G'raden."

"Sorry? Why?"

"I was getting angry. At you. I'm sorry."

"Now, you'll have to get angry with Masterharper Sebell?"

Mara laughed. "How could anyone get angry at Masterharper Sebell, or Master Harper Menolly, or Kimi?"

They both laughed as they discussed moving the bucket to the Dining Cavern where it could be monitored all night long. After returning from that chore, G'raden gifted Mara with a simple but stylish lightweight scarf – a beautiful light brown the color of Klamath's hide, complete with a bit of bronze in the right light – and then they thoroughly tested Master Hamian's foam mattress.

Two days later, Mara was called out of class and rushed to the kitchen astride L'terick's Quinteth with Klamath flying closely behind. Within a candle-mark, she returned to the classroom with a sling full of tiny Harper blue fire lizard. Whenever Blue Boy – a temporary name, claimed Mara, due to lack of inspiration – woke hungry, one of the weyrlingmaster's assistants would quickly provide her with a bowl of tiny meat scraps so she wouldn't miss any class time. The first night the tiny blue spent in Normond's weyr, G'raden made two separate quick trips to the kitchen for more meat.

When the weyrmates woke after that first night with Blue Boy, he was nowhere to be found. Chirping outside drew Mara's attention. A chilly rain fell into Benden's bowl, and all the local fire lizards were flying beautifully intricate patterns through the falling water. Blue Boy was among them.

"G'raden! Come look!" With her weyrmate's arms around her, Mara pointed out the tiny blue among all the others. "He's dancing in the rain! He's a rain dancer!" When the little blue finally landed on her outstretched hand and chattered with delight, she told him, "Your name is Rain Dancer, all right? I'll call you Rainy for short."

Masterharper Sebell and his wife visited that day with two of their children. Menolly and several of her fire lizards spent over a candle mark with Mara and little Rainy discussing training. The little blue was quite anxious to thrill his human with his quick learning, and was able to take messages to G'raden by the end of the session. The Masterharper and his family spent a good part of the day at Benden Weyr, catching up on news from friends and sharing the most recent news of Ista Weyr, Southern Hold and elsewhere.

Within a few days, Rainy was barely noticeable during Mara's training, making himself known only when he was hungry, during Klamath's baths, or in G'raden's weyr. During this time, Mara became aware that quite a few weyrlings had fire lizards, all well enough trained to stay out of the way during the day and having plenty to keep them occupied until their benefactors called. Even B'roghe had a little brown he called Dirt.

The approach of Turnover had some ill effects on some of the weyrlings. Those from the happiest of homes sorely missed the celebratory traditions of their families. But Benden Weyr had traditions of its own.

As the days grew shorter, the Weyr Harper provided almost constant evening entertainment for all Weyrfolk; music for dancing or simple relaxation, plays involving anyone who could be coerced into acting a role, knowledge and skill contests, even puppet shows.

Manora and the kitchen staff provided daily special treats during the last month of the Turn; never very extravagant, but always appreciated.

A small section of the hydroponics lab – which was now being used to provide summer greens throughout the Turn in addition to continued grub production – had been commandeered by an older woman who, with Manora's full backing, convinced Lessa and F'lar of the emotional value of pretty, green things during the shortest days of the Turn. As a result, each table in the dining cavern was decorated with a small vase holding some sort of non-winter flower or simple greenery.

As Thread became less of a problem due to colder temperatures and snow covered ground, full riders found more time to offer rides to family members of weyrlings and other Weyrbound persons for visits with their loved ones.

The last month of the Turn was full of anticipation and excitement over preparations of Turnover gifts. Weyrlings, being rather short on marks, used ingenuity to craft gifts from 'throwaway' items found throughout the Weyr. Little did they know that far more items were considered 'throwaway' at this time of the Turn. Far larger and more usable scraps of fabrics, woods and hides were easily parted with by the Lower Caverns craftspeople.

Mara, having saved the quarter-marks given to weyrlings on special occasions, had asked Manora to help her find a good supply of red and some black woolen yarn. All of her free time – which seemed quite generous during the last month of the Turn – had been spent weaving scarves with Benden Weyr's insignia worked into one end. She made one each for the Weyrleaders –she wondered if that might be presumptuous, but G'raden assured her it was not – G'raden, G'regg, B'nor, T'men – he was still officially assigned to Benden Weyr – Cally, Angalyn, D'don, B'roghe, Brendeen, L'ret, and Manora. For Melvar, Felesia and Dalgarn, she crocheted scarves of many bright colored yarn scraps. She also did considerable embroidery on several of G'raden's casual tunics, the colors being subtle enough that one would have to be standing fairly close to notice the embellishments.

Klamath was patient while his rider spent so much of her time on long skinny neck wrappings, not quite understanding the importance of Turn's End in general, but understanding his rider's desire to share gifts with her human friends. Rainy was not quite so patient, not at all understanding how his human could spend so much time pushing that yarn covered stick through stretched out pieces of yarn. He tried to play with the yarn, but quickly picked up his human's displeasure, so spent candle-marks either sitting on the top of the loom chittering away about whatever was happening outside, flying with the other fire lizards, or sleeping somewhere on Klamath's huge, warm body.

As Mara's thoughts often wandered back to Turn's End celebrations of the past, and invariably the less and less pleasant later Turns, Klamath or Rainy or both at the same time would do their best to cheer her up. If simple talking didn't work, dragon and fire lizard would resort to their idea of jokes. As Mara brooded one evening over the gift her father had not only ridiculed as silly and wasteful of _his_ marks, but thrown out of the cot, Klamath slipped his head past the dividing curtain, huffed to get her attention and then crooned a strange little ditty while Rainy, on his head knob, began flapping his wings and spinning as if dancing on that tiny stage. Mara, nearly hysterical at their antics, quit her work that evening and vowed to keep the past where it belonged. She did spend some time though speaking with other fire lizard caretakers about the creatures' amazing shared memories.

The three days of Turn's End were a jumble of visitors from all across Pern and the weyrlings' classes were often called short or cancelled altogether after the nooning. L'ret seemed quite agitated by so many interruptions, but Mara _heard_ his excitement on the day he intended to visit each of his daughters. He returned that day with a carisak nearly as full as the one he'd carried away, and wore a new, brightly colored tunic and new light weight boots to the final evening's festivities. His eyes sparkled even as he grumbled at weyrlings who took their celebrations too far.

Of the many mostly token gifts Mara received that Turn's End, two stood out as her most precious. T'men had gifted her with what he called a journal – a beautifully bound collection of over one hundred blank leaves of wood pulp paper – and explained that it was a great place to record personal thoughts, impressions and ideas, as well as special events one wished to always remember. Her first entry on the second day of Turn's End repeated T'men's explanation and then commented on how this was the very best Turn's End she could remember in her long life – though she also fretted briefly over not remembering any Turn's End celebrations prior to her mother dying.

And G'raden had gifted her with a pair of wherry-down-lined wherhide slippers; perfect for keeping her feet warm and comfortable on the cold rock floor of their weyr.

Almost the entire Weyr was present for the last evening of Turn's End. Manora's kitchen staff had worked especially hard, though with great spirit, to prepare one of the best feasts of the Turn. As a reward for their hard work, several dragonriders relieved them of their duties just before the last meal of the Turn; they served the meal, giving special service to kitcheners, cleaned platters, bowls and dishes as they emptied, and joked endlessly about their new occupations.

The Weyrleaders assisted with this special gift by keeping Manora occupied at the head table. The head woman was even coaxed into dancing to a few of the slower tunes and eventually gave up trying to keep track of _her_ kitchen – she could deal with any messes in the morning.

Even the fire lizards joined in the final celebration of Turn 2553, and even Lessa was seen laughing at their attempts to duplicate dances in the air over the dancers' heads. 2553 had been a fairly good Turn and with thirty-two eggs on the sands, 2554 promised to be just as good or better. With only fifteen Turns of Thread remaining, Toric out of Pern's politics, telekinesis becoming more practiced and Skilled people turning up, Lessa looked forward to the many challenges still awaiting her and her weyrmate.

During the final candle-mark of the Turn, the Istan weyrlings being trained at Benden Weyr all agreed they had each lost something during the last Turn – innocence or loved ones or long held purpose – but had all gained so much more than they had ever hoped for. They each cried and laughed and beamed with joy as dear friends listened intently and comforted as needed. T'men accompanied Brendeen, B'roghe felt honored to escort both Cally and Angalyn this evening, Andre was exceptionally quiet and attentive in D'don's company, and G'raden felt honored to know each of these remarkable weyrlings and especially his beautiful brown rider weyrmate.

As the final minute arrived, according to the Weyrleader's timepiece, F'lar stood and raised his glass of wine in one hand and the timepiece in the other. All stood to join his seldom traditional, but always appropriate toast.

"Another Turn gone, and with it many good friends." He bowed his head with eyes closed for a moment, as did most everyone else in the Cavern.

"Another Turn coming, and many more challenges." With a grin or a wink, he pointed his wine laden arm in the general direction of several individuals; Mara was one of them.

And then his voice rose in commanding challenge. "May we all rise to meet those challenges with dignity and grace and the help of many more new friends." He waved his wineglass at the newest weyrlings with a kind smile and then turned his attention to his timepiece.

As the timepiece marked the zero hour of the new Turn, F'lar pumped his arm signaling the Weyr Harper and his assistants to launch into Benden Weyr's long favored Turnover ballad. Above it all he yelled, "Happy Turnover, Benden Weyr!"

Cheers went up as everyone shouted, "Happy Turnover!" and downed the last of their beverages. As the musicians played on, everyone else began rearranging the tables set aside for dancing, or helping the riders/kitcheners to clear away the few remaining foods, or removing sleeping children who just had to try staying awake until the new Turn, or anything else needing to be done in preparation for the first morning of the new Turn. The next day would be one of rest for dragonriders so they all did what they could to lessen the kitchen workers' toil, being fully aware and appreciative of all the extras they had provided over the three days of Turn's End and indeed during the entire Turn.

After a quick, no-nonsense bath, G'raden sat at the small table and watched as Mara dried her hair near the black-rock hearth, Rainy on one knee crooning a soothing melody he'd never heard. She had been quiet since their return to the weyr, and Normond could only tell him that she was upset about forgetting something. She cooed to Rainy on occasion, but mostly seemed to stare into the fire with a blank expression.

"Mara?" He had to repeat himself before she responded with a simple "Hm?"

"What's bothering you, love?"

Mara smiled at the affectionate endearment, and sighed deeply – her bothersome little problem was not something to be kept secret from this dear man. "This has been the best Turnover I can remember."

G'raden waited for more. That didn't sound like a problem. When she didn't seem inclined to continue, he pressed for more. "Why does that bother you?"

Mara turned toward him, carefully to avoid dislodging Rainy, with soggy eyes. "I don't remember any Turn's Ends before Mama died."

"Ahh." G'raden reached out and ran his hand over her damp curls. "You were six?"

Mara held his hand to her head and nodded with eyes closed, as if ashamed. "And I can't remember her face."

G'raden pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. "I don't remember my mother's face either. But I remember how safe and loved I felt whenever she hugged me to her big, soft, warm breast." He closed his eyes, shook his head slowly and smiled peacefully. "Mmmmm. I will always remember that feeling." He opened his eyes and smiled at his lover's beautiful smile. "What _do_ you remember about her?"

Mara chuckled. "I remember the same." Her eyes lost focus as she reminisced. "I remember feeling safe and loved." She grinned at her lover. "I could reach my arms all the way around her waist though." When G'raden chuckled, she continued with eyes closed. "She would hold my head against her chest and rub my back with her other hand and rock me back and forth. Sometimes she'd sing real soft, or just tell me everything would be fine." Tears began to flow. "And I believed her."

G'raden pulled her close and rubbed her back, not sure how to respond to such an innocent, but accusatory statement.

"She was right though. Everything is fine now. It just took so long to get here."

G'raden chuckled wickedly. "I wonder if your father has any idea what a favor he did you."

"I hope not!" When her lover pulled away and glared the obvious question, she grimaced. "If he knew how wonderful Benden Weyr is, he'd try to move in."

"That'll never happen!"

"He can be pretty charming when he wants something."

G'raden harrumphed. "Like at the meeting with Lord Holder Kashman?"

Mara smirked. "He doesn't like being caught in a lie."

"F'lar and Lessa will never let that man in Benden Weyr after that . . . impressive meeting." The big man growled the word 'impressive' with wide, shocked eyes.

Mara grinned at him. She'd never yet heard him use sarcasm. How comforting that it would be so easy to detect. "You know, we still have one more chore this night."

No more work this night, and tomorrow was a rest day! What was she talking about? Her glance at the bed reminded G'raden of the research they were conducting for Master Smith Hamian. He tried to grimace as he helped his love to stand – Rainy had departed when they started hugging – and led her toward their final chore of the evening. "A dragonrider's work is never done," he moaned.


	36. Visitors from Honshu

Sorry again for the delay. Argh!

* * *

A sevenday after Turnover, as the youngest dragons passed their sixth month, Ramoth's latest clutch of thirty-two eggs lay hardening on the hot sands of the Hatching Ground. They would hatch within two, possibly three sevendays and a new group of candidates was already being gathered in the Weyr. This clutch did not include a queen egg though, and Lessa told those who worried over that fact that Benden Weyr and indeed all the Weyrs of Pern had sufficient queens and needed no more at present.

The little dragons were now nearly half their full grown size and the difference between and even among the colors was far more noticeable. Mynth and Nayrith were no longer among the smallest of the greens; they were both above the midsize range. Gredarth was now the third largest blue, and Klamath was the largest brown. Saraneth was still a bit smaller than Biradeth, but still, declared Lessa, among the largest queens on Pern at her age. Dandreth was the largest bronze in the class, and Tagamarth was the smallest, only slightly larger than Klamath, which sorely tested B'rand's newly learned tolerance of the big brown weyrling.

During yet another dragonet evaluation session on a cold but dry winter day, Mara assisted the dragon healers in assessing the young dragons' health and readiness for load-bearing flight. Each dragon was sent to fly a full circuit of the Weyr interior and then subjected to considerable poking and prodding by healers while Mara kept her hands on the subject dragon, both to calm and to detect any twinges or pain.

When Tagamarth's turn came, Mara was secretly pleased that B'rand did not seem bothered by her touching his bronze, though something was hidden deep in his thoughts, fighting to escape.

All eyes turned toward the fire heights when the watch dragon let out a series of welcoming bugles. Typically, one or two calls would welcome even a large group of dragons, but the brown on duty bugled at each of seven dragons as they appeared from _between_. Mara was thrilled to _hear_ that Golanth was among the visitors. Lessa, too, perked up at hearing that her son was among the visiting dragonriders. She had been in an increasingly sour, cramped mood since Ramoth had clutched her eggs. Mara could understand her Weyrwoman's frustration at being stuck in the Weyr until the hatching.

Everyone watched as Golanth seemed to float to the ground at the other end of the bowl. His wings were spread, though the left wing appeared cocked at a rather awkward angle, yet he simply floated down slowly until he landed on all four feet. After landing, the big bronze raised his head and trumpeted a cheerful thanks to the dragons hovering above.

Lessa released her held breath in a sudden chuckle. "Stay here," she said to no one in particular just before heading North at a full run, a big smile on her recently scowling face.

As the first six dragons landed near Golanth, another six popped out of _between_ in a circular formation with something hovering in the air between them. They moved to a point midway down the bowl and the object began to descend, slowly, just like Golanth had done. When the large sphere touched ground, the dragons broke formation and landed closer to Golanth.

As Lessa passed the object, it became clear that it was some sort of very large ball, at least twice as tall as Benden's Weyrwoman, though she barely noticed as she ran past. As she reached the visiting riders, she stopped in front of F'lessan and placed hands on hips. From the weyrlings' section of the bowl it looked as if the bronze rider was being scolded for something. When the grinning man stepped forward – with a tall green rider at his elbow – hugged and lifted the Weyrwoman, L'ret tried to divert the weyrlings' attention.

"Back to work you nosey busybodies! Who's next?"

"Who's that?" asked one of the green riders.

"That's F'lessan, rider of bronze Golanth and our Weyrleaders' son."

"But, I thought Golanth's wing was eaten by felines," offered a young blue rider.

"Obviously not. Now, if it's any of our business, they will all be introduced to us later. Until then, get back to work!"

The weyrlings reluctantly moved back to their previous positions in groups around riders ready to tell more stories about the use of each flying formation, but they were obviously distracted. L'ret was secretly pleased that most were so curious about what he knew to be a fascinating experiment unfolding.

"What's that giant ball for?" "It looks like a dragon-sized soccer ball." "Dragons don't play soccer." "How'd they get it to the ground?" "I didn't see any ropes." "How'd they do that?" "It floated down." "Just like Golanth did!"

When no one provided answers, the weyrlings were finally able to listen to the senior riders' stories, but heads often turned north to glimpse the giant ball.

Mara was not immune to the infectious curiosity. While she managed to concentrate mostly on the dragons being evaluated, she occasionally stole a glance at the ball as well. She fought the urge to _listen_ to L'ret or any of the visitors; she really needed to concentrate on the job literally at hand.

As the last young dragon endured the poking and prodding of the healers, the group of visitors began moving toward the weyrling barracks and weyrlings grew excited at the prospect of learning about the giant ball. L'ret gave up trying to hold their attention and instead had the weyrlings form a semicircle with their dragons. Most of the riders in the Weyr this day also joined the weyrlings, as well as quite a few of the Weyrfolk.

F'lessan, wearing a huge grin so much like F'lar's in his few unreserved moments, walked with an obvious limp and the help of a cane. Mara noticed that the tall and strangely beautiful green rider at his side lent well-disguised aid with her hand at his elbow. F'lar and Lessa walked to the side opposite the green rider. The remaining riders – of all colors of dragons and from several different Weyrs across Pern – flanked F'lessan as if he were the leader of the group.

The visiting dragons dropped one by one from the ridges – first the single gold, then three bronzes, two browns, a blue and finally, five greens – where they had been visiting with Benden's dragons, and landed in a semicircle around the focus of the weyrlings' attention. As each did so, their rider would break away from the group to join his or her lifemate.

F'lessan greeted L'ret with all due respect despite his arrogant grin, and then introduced Tai as his 'precious green' to the Weyrlingmaster. The gleam in his eyes and the blushing smile of the green rider left no doubt they were weyrmates. L'ret's handshake followed by a graceful bow caused Tai to blush even darker.

While L'ret whispered something to Tai, causing her to react with surprise and then laughter, F'lar addressed everyone gathered nearby.

"How many of you witnessed our visitors' arrival?" His grin nearly matched his son's as all hands went into the air and the questions began.

"How'd they do that?" "Golanth floated." "So did the ball." "How'd they do that?"

F'lar raised his arms to silence the crowd. "How many of you _weyrlings_ know how Golanth and the ball floated to the ground?"

Several weyrlings raised their hands while most of the full riders and Weyrfolk grinned or chuckled. F'lar pointed to a green weyrling. "You." He affected the same incredulous tone the crowd had used. "How'd they do that?"

Angalyn smiled at her Weyrleader, amused by his rendition of the weyrlings' questions. "Nayrith says it's called telekinesis."

"Cheat!" said someone on the other side of the semicircle.

F'lar's eyebrow rose, but his sparkling eyes stayed on the green rider. "You didn't know until Nayrith told you?"

"No, sir." Angalyn bowed her head in embarrassment.

"Good teamwork, weyrling!" F'lar waited for the girl to look at him with surprise, and graced her with his most charming smile and a nod.

"Next time," began F'lessan, "leave out the 'Nayrith says' part. Not everyone understands that a dragon and her rider are one and the same."

"But, she deserves credit, sir."

"Very commendable!" said F'lar.

"Yes, she does," said F'lessan. "But most people outside the Weyr won't understand that your minds are one, and apparently some inside the Weyr don't understand either."

That earned one young bronze weyrling several teasing pokes from those standing nearby.

F'lar made a great show of turning everyone's attention to his son, complete with extended arms and a theatrical bow.

F'lessan executed a partial bow, though 'his green rider' seemed panicked. With the help of Tai and his cane, he stood back up ignoring the slight loss of balance his injured leg had caused. He returned his attention to Angalyn. "Telekinesis is correct . . ." He waited for the green rider to supply her name. "Angalyn. What a lovely name." He then spoke to all the weyrlings. "Kitty Ping engineered the first dragons with three remarkable abilities: telepathy, teleportation, and telekinesis. You're all familiar – I hope – with telepathy." He pointed to his temple and grinned as the weyrlings nodded or giggled or chuckled. "Some of you," he looked at the older weyrlings and the full riders, "are familiar with teleportation – we call it 'going _between'_. But telekinesis was thought to be a failed portion of Kitty Ping's creations until very recently, when my dear Tai's lovely green Zaranth, began displaying the talent in the most remarkable ways. How many of you know what Zaranth has done with telekinesis?" Again he looked to the youngest weyrlings.

"She pushed felines away," offered one young brown weyrling.

"She exploded some of them!" declared a green weyrling with accompanying hand motions.

Most everyone gathered laughed at the boy's exuberance, but Tai blushed as she raised her hand for attention. "That may not have been Zaranth."

"What's most important," continued F'lessan, "and most remarkable, is that Zaranth taught other dragons to do the same, and the instinct was strong enough that all those present that day were able to learn telekinesis within heartbeats." He pulled Tai into a loose embrace. "Green Zaranth is the main reason Golanth and I are still alive this day." He kissed the side of Tai's head before she could duck away.

"She had lots of help," added Tai modestly.

"Only after she called for help and taught them _how_ to help," added Lessa while F'lar nodded agreement.

Seeing Tai's embarrassment, F'lessan put an end to the admiration of his weyrmate and her amazing dragon. "The reason we're here today, is to teach you and your dragons to use telekinesis as Kitty Ping intended." He then explained to all that the youngest dragons would be trained first, followed by older and older dragons. He, Lessa, F'lar and L'ret had discussed the training order earlier. The youngest dragons would be the least inhibited by the prospect of this new ability, but might become inhibited if older dragons – and their riders – should fail in their attempts. And older dragons might have less trouble after seeing the younger dragons performing what they and their riders might now believe improbable.

The newest weyrlings, all bouncing or jiggling or simply glowing with excitement, unaccustomed to being first at anything, were divided into twelve groups, one for each of the visiting riders, leaving F'lessan free to move between the groups or talk with older riders, some of whom were already accomplished at telekinesis. Other weyrlings and older riders were encouraged to join the groups but were dissuaded from asking questions until their turns came.

Mara found herself in a group with a green weyrling and a blue weyrling, and worried only slightly that neither were Istans. With so many full riders present, she laughed at herself for worrying about their safety. Her group found themselves assigned to the single visiting gold rider. Shareen and Bibeth were the youngest of three junior queen pairs at Southern Weyr.

After proper introductions had been made all around to Shareen's patient, but exacting satisfaction, the gold rider explained that telekinesis was a combination of controlled pushing and pulling and lifting. She withdrew a much smaller hide ball from the carisak she had been carrying, one much closer to the size of a soccer ball. She dropped it on the ground in front of Bibeth and asked most politely for a demonstration from her lounging gold.

Bibeth, Mara _heard_, directed the three young dragons to back up a bit to form a circle. Shareen suggested each weyrling stay to their dragons' sides. Older weyrlings, full riders and curious weyrfolk all stood further back, but still between the dragons.

The ball began moving slowly away from Bibeth, stopped and slowly returned while Shareen explained in human terms what she was doing. Using only her mind, the gold could push or pull theoretically any object.

Bibeth's explanation to the dragons was far simpler: _Push like this. Pull like this._

Using a combination of pushing and pulling, explained Shareen, Bibeth could move the ball in different directions. The gold demonstrated by sending the ball around the inside of the weyrlings' circle. The ball then spiraled into the center of the space and, with gasps from the observers, began floating. Higher and higher, it rose, until it floated at the smallest weyrling's eye level. Shareen explained that lifting an object required picking it up while using a precisely controlled combination of pushing and pulling. With more detailed concentration, the object could be made to perform even more complex maneuvers. As Shareen glowed with pride for her dragon, the ball began spinning on its vertical axis. As the small group of spectators 'ooo'd and 'ahhh'd, the axis began to tilt toward a horizontal alignment, which elicited even more appreciation. Finally, the spinning stopped and the ball slowly floated to the ground.

Bibeth humbly pulled her muzzle in toward her chest as the small crowd clapped and cheered her wonderful performance.

"Now," began Shareen, "who would like to try telekinesis?" She laughed lightly as three half-sized dragon heads rose with excited readiness as three weyrlings moved closer to their dragons' sides.

Mara _heard_ as the gold rider assessed the three weyrlings, and was not the least offended when Shareen selected the blue to try first. The gold rider's reasoning was that the youngest humans would have the least resistance to trying something new.

Bibeth telekinetically rolled the ball toward the blue who, along with his rider, watched with almost comical concentration. The ball stopped abruptly an arm's length in front of the blue's muzzle which was poised barely a hand-span off the ground.

"Good!" said Shareen. "Now, push it back to Bibeth."

Mara and Klamath listened as Bibeth gave the blue extra instructions.

_You stopped it with a push. Now push harder._

The ball wobbled as if a finger had touched it.

_Harder,_ coaxed Bibeth.

The ball scooted, without rolling, half the distance to the gold. The green weyrling giggled, Mara grinned, and the blue weyrling glowed with pride for his dragon.

_Good, _said Bibeth. _But you're trying too hard. Push and then let the ball roll._

The blue focused again and soon the ball scooted a short distance before rolling to a spot between Bibeth's forepaws.

"Very good!" said Shareen. "Now pull it back."

The blue required a couple tries to get the ball back to his feet, but both he and his rider beamed with pride at the accomplishment. He was then instructed to push the ball to the green, which was far easier – he had no worries about hitting a clutch-mate with the ball. One attempt sent the ball past the green's forepaws and under her belly.

The green had far less trouble pushing the ball to Bibeth – she knew it would take more than a small hide ball to hurt a big strong queen. As a result her first attempt at pushing the ball sent it toward Bibeth so fast it seemed to have gone _between_. Bibeth stopped it though, and her jaw dropped at the green as she congratulated her, but suggested she pull it back a bit slower. The pull-back was slightly slower but still so swift and so uncontrolled it smacked the green in the belly causing her to squeak with surprise as she jumped up to all four feet, her wings spreading for balance nearly knocking down several observers.

Shareen's lilting laugh was far from condemning. "Now you see why we need to practice control. Can you roll it to Klamath? Without hurting him?"

The poor green's embarrassment was evident to all; her head swaying with muzzle down and yellow swirling through her eyes. But her rider soothed her with kind words and loving strokes along her neck.

"It's all right, lovey. This was your first try. Slower this time, all right?" The boy kept his hand on her neck as she snaked her head between her forelegs to find the ball. It rolled quickly to her nose and just a bit beyond where she could then push it toward Klamath. Her control was much improved, but Klamath still squeaked when the ball approached so quickly.

Using his mind, Klamath stopped the ball before it hit his paw. _I did it! _The brown bounced and huffed with excitement.

_Of course you did!_ Mara jiggled with pride and laughed at the thrill of his accomplishment. _Now, push it to Bibeth, love._

Klamath focused all his attention on the little ball and pushed. It rolled about a hand-span before it stopped.

_Harder, love._ Hand on his neck for moral support, Mara concentrated on the ball as well and wished she could help her sweet brown. _Push!_

The ball disappeared! A thwap and a gasp from Bibeth caused the brown and his rider to look to the gold. The ball now rolled away from Bibeth's twitching nose and back toward them.

Mara gasped and Klamath groaned and both shrank in stature, waiting for . . . something. Even the observers stood in silent shock at what they'd just witnessed.

After what seemed an eternity to the brown weyrling pair, Bibeth began to shake. She raised her head into the air and let out a high pitched bugle that matched her rider's surprised laughter.

Mara sagged into Klamath as he leaned against her.

_I don't think she's hurt,_ said Klamath meekly.

Bibeth's massive head lowered, jaw dropped in a draconic grin as she still huffed. _No, I am not hurt, little Klamath. You simply surprised me. _ She extended her neck to gently touch noses with the little brown. _ You did very well. Now, try again . . . but slower._

Klamath pulled the ball back and pushed again with considerably less force. The ball rolled at a leisurely pace to a point just below Bibeth's tucked in nose.

_It simply requires practice,_ said the gold to the weyrling dragons.

So, the weyrlings and their dragons practiced. They practiced pushing and pulling in their small groups, and then older and older dragons were called to join in until nearly every dragon in the Weyr was practicing pushing and pulling small hide balls around the chilly bowl. Only a few of the oldest dragons and their riders seemed unable to perform the simplest version of telekinesis.

Once all who could had grown more competent at moving the balls across the ground, weyrlings were again called into their small groups. This time they learned how to lift the small hide balls with varying degrees of success. All the weyrlings were able to at least raise their bundles of hide off the ground. Some, like Klamath, lifted so hard the balls were nearly lost; some of Benden's dragons flew fairly high to find the small orbs and track them long enough to know where they would have fallen before catching them for a safe return to the bowl. Most would have fallen right back into Benden's bowl; only a few had been pushed as well as lifted and would have fallen far outside the craters.

Again, older and older dragons were added to the exercise, until all but a few became accustomed to lifting. And then the concept of working in male/female pairs was introduced. At that point, each dragon in the Weyr – even the oldest – was found to have some telekinetic ability; perhaps in slowing another dragon's movements, or helping to maintain chosen directions, or simply adding a little extra push or pull or lift.

Some dragons actually did better by themselves than with a partner. When F'lessan good naturedly began separating 'loners' from 'team workers', a pattern quickly became evident. Girl dragons with boy riders, and Mara and Klamath, were most likely able to perform more complicated telekinetic tasks without assistance. These dragons, for instance, were first to figure out how to send a ball on a curving course, and then were able to show their clutch-mates and others how it was done. One of the 'loner' greens was first to lift and spin a ball, though the spin became a push and the ball wound up where it should not have been.

On a whim – or so it seemed – F'lessan wondered out loud to the 'loners' if the riders might have some telekinetic ability without the aid of their dragons. A few were willing to test his theory, Mara included, so their dragons were sent a ways down the bowl to be entertained by Bibeth. Following the established pattern, F'lessan asked first the youngest green riders to make the attempt, and then the older riders. Mara was last to try, but first to actually push the ball with only her mind, though only about an arm's length in distance.

"I did it!" Her eyes were almost as wide as her open-mouthed smile.

_Of course you did!_ said both Klamath and Normond in unison.

_Did you help, love?_

_No. I just watched,_ said Klamath with glee.

_I didn't help either, _added Normond. _And G'raden thinks you should help with firestone more often._

That started Mara laughing until she noticed the disbelieving stares from most of the other 'loners'. She listened briefly to each of them and found that they also thought Klamath had surely helped her. F'lessan smiled in a most convincing manner though, as he checked with Golanth who checked with Bibeth on whether the brown had helped his rider.

"Well!" declared the bronze rider. "We now have proof that humans as well as dragons are capable of telekinesis! Can you do it again, Weyrling Mara?"

Mara did do it again, and pushed the ball all the way to the bronze rider's feet. When asked, she also pulled it back to her own feet, and then toward one of the youngest green riders. He, being one who had not doubted what he'd seen, promptly stopped the ball a short distance from his feet, and then pushed it part way back to Mara. Before he could try again, though, a shout from further down the bowl had everyone turning to see what was happening.

Teams had been working with the giant ball, rolling it back and forth and on curving paths, and had just started practicing lifting when something went wrong. The ball was lifted just above the largest dragons' heads when someone on the eastern line pushed . . . with enough force to shoot the ball toward the southern entrance to the storage rooms.

Above the excited chatter and the sudden collective gasp from the riders involved in the new game, one voice overpowered all. "Melvar! Go back!"

From Mara's position, she could see the boy walking out of the entrance studying something in his hands. On hearing his uncle's shout, he looked up, dropped whatever he was holding and stretched out his arms as if to stop the giant lump of hide. The next thing Mara saw was the ball flying the opposite direction, but much faster and on a much higher trajectory. It flew fast and high, up over the line of dragons closest to Melvar and toward the eastern wall of weyrs. As it lodged into one of those weyrs, Mara looked back to where Melvar stood in apparent shock.

G'regg had started running even before yelling at his nephew. As he approached at full speed, the boy turned and ran back into the tunnel. Mara listened to his thoughts, but could hear only fear of a repeated mistake.

_It's all right, Melvar. You did nothing wrong. Please come back._ Mara directed the most calming thoughts she could manage toward the boy, but he wasn't hearing.

Voices in the bowl finally reached Mara. "Wow!" "Who did that?" "That was great!" "Is he all right?"

"Who did that?" asked Lessa of Mara.

"Melvar. And he's scared senseless. May I go to him, Lessa?"

Lessa put a hand on the weyrling's arm. "Of course. Tell him he's done nothing wrong, Mara."

"That's what I've . . . I'll tell him, Lessa."

Fear in Mara's eyes at nearly disclosing their secret caused Lessa to smile slightly. _F'lessan knows, dear. Go._

When the weyrling looked at Lessa's son, he merely cocked his grinning head in Melvar's direction. So Mara ran as fast as she could toward the tunnel, directing soothing thoughts at the boy. At the entrance, she could hear Melvar's panicked screaming.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean it! Let me go!"

G'regg stood a dragon's length away from a group of riders surrounding Melvar. He leaned back against the wall with his hands covering his face.

Mara put a hand on one arm and waited for his attention. The man was crying when he finally looked at her.

His voice broke as he forced out. "He's afraid of me!"

"Didn't your sister say you look just like your father?" Mara smiled gently at the shock on the bronze rider's tear-streaked face.

G'regg shook his head. "There's nothing I can do about that."

"It'll take time, G'regg."

"He knows you won't hurt him."

Mara nodded her head as she squeezed his arm, and walked away from the now more hopeful man.

She had to elbow through the group of people trying to calm the boy and found Melvar raised off the ground with B'nor's arms wrapped around his meager chest. The boy was delivering some sound kicks to the man's legs, and some jaw-breaking blows to his face with both tightly clenched fists and the back of his head. But the bronze rider kept a secure hold on the boy as he too spoke calming words. B'nor would sport some brilliant bruises the next day.

Mara caught the boy's wrists and brought them together between them. "Melvar? It's all right, boy. No one wants to hurt you."

Melvar calmed a bit, but then raised a leg and kicked her firmly in the belly.

Mara grunted at the surprising impact, but did not let loose. She caught her breath and then kissed one of his clenched fists.

That broke the panicky mental spiral the boy had been travelling. Wide eyes looked at the big woman, fear, longing, and shame contorting his face in a new heartbreaking direction. A new well of tears sprang free as he wailed, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"It's all right, Melvar. You did nothing wrong."

"I didn't mean to push. I was scared."

"You had to push. Or you would have been hurt. You did the right thing, Melvar."

The boy's fists went limp and Mara held them to the sides of her face. When Melvar's hands opened to caress her smiling cheeks, she moved her hands up his arms and invited him to place them around her neck.

Melvar continued to cry as he gladly reached around Mara's neck and let her take him into her arms. He never heard B'nor's gusty, repeated sighs of relief. "They all saw what I did."

"Yes, the whole Weyr saw what you did, and they think it's great, Melvar!"

"They do?"

"Yes, they do! Do you know what we were learning this day?"

"No."

"Telekinesis."

"What's that?"

"That's what you did when you pushed the ball away. And you proved the weyrleaders' son was right about people being able to do what dragons can do."

"Is there son my age?"

"No. He's closer to my age. But, I'd wager he'll want to meet you."

Melvar's eyes had begun to droop. As he lay his head on Mara's shoulder, he said, "He's too old to play."

"He has a bronze dragon. Golanth."

"Like Uncle G'regg?"

"Like Uncle G'regg, who is worried sick about you."

"Where is he?"

"Right here boy." G'regg had approached out of Melvar's line of sight, but now laid a big hand on the boy's back.

"Where were you?"

G'regg stammered, not sure how to respond. Mara answered. "He tried to help you, Melvar, but you got even more scared, so he moved away."

"I'm not afraid of Uncle G'regg!"

"I didn't think so. Nothing scary about that big, ugly bronze rider."

Melvar made a valiant effort to raise his head and look at his uncle, but spoke to Mara. "He's not that big."

"Oh, boy!" G'regg growled, but with a grin. "We need to have a talk!"

Melvar giggled weakly as he was hoisted to his uncle's shoulder. He immediately wrapped his thin arms over the big shoulders and buried his head into the big neck.

G'regg fought hard to control his breathing, but lost the battle against the tears flowing from his eyes as he hugged the small boy to his massive chest. "Let's go take a nap."

Melvar raised his head just enough to whisper, "I'm not tired."

"I am," growled the big man. "You wore me out, boy."

Melvar giggled as his head fell again to the juncture of neck and shoulder. G'regg left the tunnel with B'nor following right behind, one hand holding a small arm and the other holding his sore face.

As the riders passed Lessa at the entrance, she put a hand on B'nor's arm and walked with them to Arlith. "You need to see the healers." The man's momentary shock at the thought of being separated from his friend was not as surprising as it would have been a Turn earlier. She smiled. "I'll bring a healer and some ice."

B'nor, eyes threatening to overflow, nodded. "Thank you, Lessa."

F'lessan stood behind Lessa, somewhat winded from the hurried trek across the bowl. "I'd very much like to speak with the boy when he wakes," he said to B'nor.

"That may be awhile." B'nor's lips twitched in a partial smile as he touched a few of the spots on his face that were already starting to bruise. "He used up considerable energy trying to get away." After a nod from Lessa, he limped away to follow G'regg and Melvar.

oOoOo

In G'raden and Mara's weyr, the bronze rider studied his weyrmate as she dried her freshly washed hair getting ready for bed. His face was more thoughtfully solemn than Mara had ever seen.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"Does it bother you that Melvar's getting credit for proving humans capable of telekinesis?"

Mara smiled and shook her head. "No. Should it?"

"You were first to move that little ball."

"But there's no question that Melvar did it on his own."

"You think Klamath helped you?"

"No, but others do." She raised her chin in mock pride. "Besides, I'm already famous, thanks to Klamath. It's time for Melvar to be recognized as the special boy he is." She stood and returned the damp drying cloth to the bathing room.

G'raden stood and waited for her return. He bowed deeply as she passed the curtain and held his arm out to her. "Allow _me_ to recognize what a special woman _you_ are."


	37. New Skills

So sorry for the long delay.

I've changed one word to address Starsinger's much appreciated comment. Can you find it?

* * *

F'lessan stayed at Benden Weyr the remainder of that day waiting for Melvar to wake from his ordeal. He and the other visiting riders spent several candle-marks with riders and weyrlings interested in improving their and their dragons' telekinetic Skills. Several more boy green riders were found to possess the Skill to counterbalance their dragons without help from others.

When the other visiting riders had to return to their respective Weyrs, F'lessan spent his time catching up with long-time friends and of course the Weyrleaders.

Ramoth and Mnementh practiced lifting Golanth at his request – he so wanted to sunbath on the heights with the other bronzes – and watched from the Hatching Ground entrance with their nervous riders as the big bronze glided to a less than perfect, but quite adequate landing within the bowl.

As Rukbat glided below the western horizon and Melvar showed no signs of waking – Lessa and Brekke had checked on both him and B'nor several times – F'lessan and Golanth were offered a ground level weyr.

The next morning, while Melvar ate like a newly hatched dragonet, ignoring giggling from Felesia and teasing from G'regg, G'raden and black-and-blue B'nor – Dalgarn merely smiled – F'lessan quickly realized he would get no answers to his questions until the boy's little belly was well beyond full.

Melvar finally sat back in his chair and let out a mighty belch which earned considerable admiration from the men at and near the table and an equal amount of disgust from young Felesia. After the laughter and teasing subsided, F'lessan finally began his interview with the boy.

He first congratulated the boy on his amazing dragon-like Skill, and then coaxed him into small demonstrations with a redfruit on the table. Melvar was at first hesitant to display an ability that had caused so much trouble in his past, but F'lessan listed the many ways such a Skill could be useful to anyone who could master it: moving things that might be too heavy or awkward to move with mere muscle, picking up dropped items when both hands were otherwise occupied, keeping pesky girls from getting too close. The last earned the bronze rider a fierce scowl from Felesia and a broad grin from Melvar, along with the courage to show off a bit.

While Melvar rolled the redfruit around the table and even lifted it over plates and mugs in its path, F'lessan carefully and expertly extracted the story of how Melvar had discovered his Skill. On one of the first trader caravans Melvar had travelled with, one contentious old man – at least uncle G'regg's age, said Melvar with a grin – had taken great pleasure in smacking the boy if he 'got in the way'. Melvar had quickly noticed that the man went out of his way to trip over him, so had wished the man could trip over something else. The wishing seemed to cause rocks or buckets to roll into the man's path as he approached and Melvar soon realized his ability to move things. One day though, the man surprised Melvar by popping out from behind a cart in a highly aggressive manner. Shocked, the boy had _pushed_ the man back, causing him to fly through the air, landing so hard he'd lost his breath. Melvar had feared he'd killed the man and had gone closer to investigate. The man regained his breath with a deep, noisy intake of air, and immediately rolled to catch the young boy. Frightened again, for the man's intent then was to do far more than merely smack him – Melvar quickly explained that the look in his eyes had been murderous – Melvar had mentally _kicked_ the man, sending him flying again, this time into thorny bushes. On hearing and seeing no signs of movement, Melvar had run. He ran for candle-marks, away from the well worn trader's track, and never knew what had happened to the mean old man, something he still felt terribly guilty about three Turns later.

"Hey!" squawked the boy as the redfruit took an unplanned detour into his lap.

The men gaped as Felesia giggled with malicious glee. "You're showing off. It's my turn!"

"I'm not showing off."

"Yes you are! Let me try."

Before long, the youngsters were challenging each other to more and more complex maneuvers with the redfruit, sending it flying around riders' heads, spinning it like a top on the table and in the air, and finally, at the weyrleader's request, all the way up to the head table where F'lar caught it and took a bite out of the rind.

"Harper Selikar is waiting on you two," said the weyrleader after wiping juice from his chin. He then bowed slightly. "And thank you for this." He held up the dripping redfruit with a taunting grin.

Felesia's nose twitched as she tried to avoid frowning while Melvar managed a respectable "You're welcome, and thank you sir," to the weyrleader.

"Before you go," said F'lessan with barely restrained nervousness – at least as far as the observers were concerned. "We at Honshu would be honored if the two of you would visit sometime soon."

Felesia drew a long, excited gasp and turned a glowing smile to Melvar's uncle. "Could we fly on Arlith?"

"You should fly on a green!" griped Melvar.

"Melvar!" G'regg was only slightly shocked at his nephew's apparent jealousy.

Arlith spoke to his rider as well as both of the children. _She will far more likely fly gold. _

The girl grinned far more confidently as she took hold of the shocked boy's hand and led him away. "Come on! Harper Selikar is waiting for us."

oOoOo

Within a few days, the children and Dalgarn were loaded onto Arlith and taken to Honshu. Quite a few riders from most of the Weyrs were waiting, as well as their weyrleaders.

F'lar and Lessa had been carefully sharing news with some of the other weyrleaders of the Skilled people who'd been found so far. They in turn had shared the information with their most trusted riders to aid in the search for these special people. G'dened and G'narish, the last of the Oldtimer weyrleaders, had been left out – G'narish, despite a far more open mind than G'dened, was still having considerable trouble accepting telekinesis and G'dened was far too occupied with the changes taking place at Ista Weyr– and while T'men was fully aware of the various Skills presenting themselves, none of Ista's riders had yet been informed. They had enough to deal with at present.

After a brief demonstration with a hide ball, the weyrleaders and F'lessan all adjourned to a meeting room within Honshu while the children played with the lower ranked riders and some of the nearby holder children. All the leaders present had been informed of the heightened telepathic Skills that some unnamed people had demonstrated, and all were now informed that Melvar and Felesia were also extremely telepathic. They were then filled in on the circumstances of their individual discoveries, which elicited several gasps and a few angry curses. When questions were asked about how to find and protect other such people, F'lar was at a loss – neither he nor Lessa had met anyone telepathic prior to their discovery, and Mara and Brendeen had found others using their own Skills. So, a minor deception was devised to see how the telepathic children would react to an uncomfortable situation.

The children were called into the meeting room supposedly to answer questions about their telekinetic Skills. F'lar held back Dalgarn and looked him square in the eye as he pointed to his temple.

"You and both children will be returning to Benden Weyr." He studied Dalgarn's face for several heartbeats, thinking briefly about the planned test. "Understood?" The man's slight smile convinced him that he had accepted his invitation to listen carefully to his thoughts.

"Yes, Weyrleader F'lar. Thank you for clarifying the situation."

On entering the meeting room, it was obvious to F'lar and Dalgarn that the 'plan' was already having an effect on the children. They sat close together and held hands under the big long table. F'lar motioned Dalgarn to the opposite side of the table and walked behind the children.

He put a hand on each of their shoulders and leaned down between them. "It's all right, children. These are all friends of ours, and we just have a few questions for you."

Melvar attempted a smile for the weyrleader, but Felesia's wide eyes threatened to spill tears. F'lar patted her head and moved to sit on the girl's other side.

K'van asked the first question – how had they learned of their remarkable abilities? As Melvar went through his story yet again, K'van kept looking at Felesia. Everyone else seemed quite interested in the girl as well, having trouble, so it seemed, with paying attention to Melvar's discourse. Adrea smiled at the girl as if she were a long lost child of her own. Neldama watched her closely as if full of concern. The men all looked at Felesia with differing expressions, some smiling kindly and some looking her over as if she were a prized, young runner beast, or perhaps a future gold rider.

Felesia, during Melvar's story, alternated between glancing at each of the people in the room and glaring at Dalgarn, who merely concentrated on the boy's repeated story. As Melvar finished, she buried her face into his shoulder, her whole body shaking with fear.

Melvar reached a proprietary arm around her and held her close as he glared at each of the people in the room.

Palla, usually so quiet, could take no more. "Enough! One does not need to be telepathic to see that we are frightening these poor children. Stop it now!" She, too, glared at the other weyrleaders at the table.

Melvar did not catch her hint, but had also had enough. "She goes back to Benden Weyr . . . unless you take me too!"

T'gellan bit back a laugh before managing fairly seriously, "What makes you think she would go anywhere else, young man?"

Now, Melvar knew he had been caught. He looked desperately at Dalgarn, who only smiled, and then at F'lar who smiled openly at him.

The fear in the boy's eyes tugged at F'lar's heart. "I'm sorry, Melvar, Felesia." He didn't normally like to apologize to anyone for anything, but these two frightened children deserved all the kindness he could offer. "Before you came in, we were discussing your other Skill, and there were questions about how to find others like you."

Adrea continued the explanation. "So we all thought about how much we would like to have such a precious little girl return with us to our Weyrs."

Wide eyed Felesia turned a pouty face to Southern's weyrwoman. "So you don't want me in your Weyr?"

Several at the table laughed, but Adrea smiled kindly. "I would love to have you in our Weyr, but . . ."

K'van finished for her. "Only if you so choose, Felesia. We would never forcefully separate you from your friends."

"Nor would we allow it, young lady." F'lar mockingly scolded the girl. "You're part of _our_ family now." He touched his thighs and opened his arms in silent invitation, and soon found his lap warmed by a giggling and sniffing little girl.

Melvar, disgusted and slightly jealous, grunted. F'lar reached over and mussed his hair. "As are you, young man."

"And Dalgarn?" squeaked Felesia.

F'lar laughed, but looked at the shy man with the utmost respect. "Absolutely."

"Dalgarn, too?"

Leave it to Mirrim, thought F'lar, to sound so shocked.

"Dalgarn is skilled in many areas," began F'lar with a conspiratorial glance at Dalgarn. "His most recent occupation has been fostering young Felesia." Neither Benden weyrleader, nor Dalgarn for that matter, was ready to have his secret revealed.

While most everyone either smiled or slightly raised eyebrows, Mirrim looked even more shocked than earlier.

Felesia could not withhold comment on the green rider's thoughts. "Dalgarn would never hurt me!"

Melvar added his attempt at defending his friend. "And if he ever even thought about it, we would know."

With Mirrim appeased, somewhat, the discussion moved to telepathy, with some questions to the children regarding an individual's privacy and how they would deal with several difficult situations. The children had been schooled well by Dalgarn, G'regg, Mara and Brendeen, and even Manora and Lessa. While the situations presented this day were new – mostly dealing with issues a weyrleader might be caught thinking about –each of the children took their time considering the best course of action, or inaction. They also asked questions of Dalgarn and F'lar, out loud at Dalgarn's silent suggestion so the weyrleaders could hear their thought processes, and _spoke_ to each other about each situation before offering final answers.

Pern's weyrleaders were all impressed with the children's fairly well developed moral standards. Pella offered that perhaps hearing other people's thoughts increased one's empathy toward them. Most agreed that having telepaths available could make relationships with Holders and others far easier. Understanding another's unspoken motivations could help negotiations run much smoother. Only Mirrim seemed uncomfortable in the presence of the children.

Melvar and Felesia were excused to return to the games outside, but at Felesia's insistence – she wanted to know why 'that lady' was afraid of them – they waited just outside Honshu Hold, pretending to be engaged in deep conversation as they focused their _listening_ back into the meeting room.

The boring discussion covered mostly how to find others like them, and what to tell them about Benden Weyr to convince them to relocate. The adult's conversation then moved to the usefulness of such Skills, both in a Weyr and elsewhere. Finally, with considerable input from Dalgarn at F'lar's prompting, the adults discussed special handling of Skilled children. Dalgarn stressed honesty and unconditional acceptance, even when the children made inevitable mistakes.

Melvar and Felesia smiled at each other as they _listened_ to Dalgarn's kind and loving thoughts.

"All children make mistakes," declared Mirrim.

F'lar chuckled. "These children can make some extremely . . . inconvenient mistakes. Though they've both relaxed considerably since joining us," he added with a lopsided grin.

Now, Mirrim's fear came to the surface. "How did you prepare them for mating flights?"

Dalgarn nearly choked and had to turn away from the table to collect himself.

F'lar laughed. "At first, we tried to avoid the issue by removing them from the Weyr with other children. But, on one trip to Landing, we arrived to find that some of Monoco's greens had just started their flights. The children were frantic." F'lar frowned at the memory. "So worried that someone was getting hurt. So, instead of a visit to the Library, Lessa and I took them to a private room to discuss the situation." He shook his head in memory. "It required considerably more thought on our parts about the emotional aspect of mating flights. But we finally came up with an honest, child friendly answer to their many questions."

Mirrim scowled at Dalgarn, who was studying a painting on the wall behind his chair. "What's wrong with him?"

F'lar laughed. "Our good Dalgarn is quite Hold bred. He's only been at Benden Weyr for seven months now. And having been born and raised at the Crom mines, he was never close enough to have ever experienced dragon mating flights."

J'frey chuckled. "Ah, mating flights. I must say that it took me a couple of Turns to stop blushing over the mere mention of them."

"K'van still blushes on occasion, if he isn't prepared in advance," added Adrea.

K'van turned a malicious grin to his weyrwoman. "Not like you, my dear! You still blush even when you've had plenty of notice."

T'gellan bellowed with mirth as others laughed, both at the Southern Weyrleaders and at themselves. "Dalgarn, my man," managed the Monoco weyrleader. "Don't be embarrassed about being embarrassed. You are definitely not alone. Most Weyr personnel have merely had plenty of practice in hiding their embarrassment."

Dalgarn had turned partially back to the table when J'frey had spoken, having _heard_ the sincerity in his words, but now faced T'gellan squarely, though still with a red face. "Thank you, sir."

Outside, Melvar and Felesia grinned at each other. Melvar took the girl's hand and pulled her toward the games further out. "She wasn't afraid _of_ us. She was afraid _for_ us."

"I think I like her," said Felesia before taking the lead and pulling Melvar into a run. "I wonder why Dalgarn is so embarrassed."

"Because he's holdbred?"

"We're both holdbred."

"Yeah, but they're not telling us everything about mating flights," said Melvar. "Maybe we'll be embarrassed too when we learn everything."

"When we're older and wiser?" Felesia grinned, knowing how much Melvar hated that over-used explanation.

"Yeah, whenever that might be."

G'regg met them before they reached the game, and quickly learned what had distressed them in the meeting, and that everything was fine now. He began explaining the rules of the game – soccer, from the Aivas files – but Felesia corrected him on a few points. Harper Selikar had been teaching all his students the basics for months, and Felesia was a stickler for rules.

As they approached the other riders and children, G'regg bellowed at the current referee . . . with an accompanying wink. "Who's got the rule book? Felesia says the goalie _can_ us his hands. That can't be right!"

The noticeably pregnant green rider put hands on hips as she bellowed right back at the big bronze rider. "I told you he could!"

"I want to see it in the book!"

The pretty little woman looked at Felesia and pointed at a carisak on a nearby bench. "It's in there. You find it, dear, while I keep these crazy bronze riders from cheating." Her last five words were growled at G'regg.

Melvar pulled his shocked friend toward the table while the green rider continued her tirade.

"You bronze riders just can't stand to lose, can you?"

Felesia looked shyly at Melvar. "They're just play fighting, aren't they?"

"Yup," said the boy with a knowing grin. "But she's right. Bronze riders do hate to lose. At anything!"

Felesia wound up helping to referee the game while Melvar joined the children's' team. The girl, with the encouragement of the green rider, learned a bit about confronting adults who took advantage of their size to attempt frightening smaller opponents, as did the hold children.

The weyrleaders soon joined the observers, and informed the referees that the next goal would signal meal time. Within a very short time, the ball, seemingly of its own volition, jumped straight up over the heads of the surprised players, veered toward the farthest end of the field, dropped to the ground and rolled all the way into the makeshift goal, the blue rider goalie too stunned to attempt a block.

"I didn't do it!" yelled Melvar. The goal would have counted for the children's team.

F'lar turned to glare at Felesia, whose shoulders hunched as she studied the ground at her feet. He dropped to one knee and raised her chin until their eyes met. "Felesia?"

The girl barely squeaked. "I'm hungry."

F'lar shook with laughter, hugged the girl and stood with her in his arms. He turned to the other weyrleaders and spoke loud enough for all to hear. "Goal to the referee! Meal time!"

The noon meal was served on the topmost porch under a large shade cloth. F'lar recognized it as one of the sails that had been used to shade Golanth during his recovery.

Melvar, Felesia and Dalgarn were asked to sit at a table with Benden's weyrleader, F'lessan and Tai. Both children ate as if starved – apparently telekinesis required considerable energy.

The adult dragonriders discussed all that had been transpiring at Honshu Weyrhold since the weyrleaders' last visit. A few more small holds had been established to accommodate farmers and beast handlers, and their wives and sometimes children thoroughly enjoyed helping out at Honshu's main hold. A semi-retired Master Harper had requested reassignment to teach the children, some of whom were even interested in, and helping with, the star smith duties. In addition to the sky watching at night and cataloguing during the day, the Hold had become an unofficial training ground for riders interested in developing their dragons' telekinetic abilities. And, now, efforts would be made to develop the riders' abilities as well.

When Felesia, her worst hunger satisfied, asked why telekinesis was being taught here, Tai explained that Honshu was where the draconic skill was first practiced on a large scale. That prompted questions from both children which led to a full disclosure of the incidents leading up to F'lessan and Golanth's near fatal injuries. F'lar added that Tai had been severely injured as well.

"Is that why Golanth needs help flying?" asked the little girl innocently.

F'lessan smiled sadly. "He doesn't actually need help flying, just with getting off the ground. His wings aren't strong enough to make that first down stroke. So, other dragons lift him into the air, until we can figure out how he can lift himself."

Felesia's face puckered as she thought hard about that last statement. "Why doesn't he just push the ground away?"

Everyone was so stunned and so silent as they stared at the girl, Felesia began to shrink into herself. "I'm sorry."

"That's brilliant!" declared F'lessan as his eyes lost focus. "Golanth? Did you hear that?"

A draconic shriek of terror caused everyone on the porch, except Melvar and Felesia, who chose to continue eating, to run toward the lower ledge where the dragons were resting.

F'lessan stood quickly and nearly lost his balance as his left leg gave out. "Golly! Be careful!"

Tai was quickly at his side, and they moved to the edge of the porch, F'lar at his son's other side.

The big bronze trilled with excitement as he floated higher off the ground, out of reach of desperately frantic Zaranth. The big green, Mnementh and several other dragons launched into the air and hovered around Golanth, ready to assist if necessary.

The higher Golanth floated, the faster his trill, until he slowly spread his wings and took a downward stroke . . . and began flying. The attendant dragons cleared a path for the bronze and began warbling like fire-lizards, all equally thrilled at Golanth's accomplishment.

F'lessan laughed spasmodically as tears rolled down his face. He hugged Tai while vibrating with joy and relief. "Now," he whispered to his weyrmate, "he can fly Zaranth. Without help!"

Felesia was fussed over for quite some time as Golanth repeatedly landed and pushed himself into the air. She was shuttled from lap to lap as adults commended her for helping the bronze dragon. About the time Golanth ran out of energy, Felesia's eyes began to droop, so she was passed to Dalgarn, who held and rocked her while she napped.

Melvar tried to stay awake – he was ten Turns old now! – but the day's events caught up with him as well. The boy slumped further and further against G'regg's arm until he finally fell, with his uncle's guidance, onto the bronze rider's lap.

When the children woke from their naps, and after being urged to return anytime, they were flown on Arlith to Cove Hold to meet Lytol, D'ram and Wansor. The Cove Hold residents were also fascinated with the children's briefly demonstrated abilities just as Rukbat was setting in their western sky; Lytol and D'ram because they had thought only dragons were capable of telekinesis and Wansor because he was envisioning all sorts of possibilities on Pern and beyond, though he did not speak of his visions lest he frighten such young innocents. He and the others soon realized these children could not be protected by mere silence.

"Have you ever been to space, Master Wansor?" asked Felesia.

"Me?" Wansor gaped toward the little girl. "Oh, my! Yes I have, and what a remarkable experience that was!"

"What's the _Yokohama_?" asked Felesia while Melvar rolled his eyes.

Wansor's dull eyes widened considerably. He had been very careful not to speak of space or his visits to the _Yokohama_, and was quite certain no one else had spoken of them either.

Lytol and D'ram shared a meaningful glance – both were familiar with dragons hearing thoughts, and the Benden weyrleader had mentioned that they had discovered telepathy to be not exclusively a draconic skill. Neither visiting bronze rider had said anything to suggest this little girl was Skilled in such a manner, but both were looking rather smug about her curiosity.

While Wansor explained that the _Yokohama_ was what Pern residents called the Dawn Sister, and was easily led into the story of how the Red Star, which is actually a planet in its own right, had been diverted from its Thread-dropping path, D'ram tested his theory. He and his friends had been discussing something Lytol had called 'the devil's advocate' – a tool Lytol had said could be extremely useful in many varied discussions. He chose to practice the role by thinking about the many ways telepathically Skilled persons could be used for someone's advancement in society. Why, knowing a rival's thoughts would make it tremendously easy to best them in _any_ contest. And, knowing a woman's thoughts would make it so much easier to win her attentions. He ceased that line of thought quickly though – this little girl was far too young to _hear_ any more. He did however, consider the enjoyment he might find if he could ever figure out his friend Lytol's thought processes. Wouldn't it be fun to surprise the man with not so carefully veiled hints of such understanding?

Lytol conducted a test of his own. He allowed his cynical mind to wander into all the problems telepathic humans might cause in Pern's still quite conservative culture. Few people in power would appreciate knowing someone might be able to read their thoughts, and on learning that such people existed, would become even more paranoid in public, and even in their own Holds. And the Abominators would have new targets, surely – at least in their minds – created by Aivas' meddling with society. Even simple drudges might feel threatened by the possibility of anyone hearing their thoughts. Telepaths would surely be in extreme danger if their identities were known to the general public.

Dalgarn had been _listening_ to each of their hosts, so understood the motivations behind their rather distressing thoughts. To facilitate their individual tests and those of the weyrleader and G'regg – both were enjoying D'ram's and Lytol's confusion – he pretended to be totally engrossed with Wansor's firsthand knowledge of a very popular teaching ballad.

Felesia stared wide-eyed at Lytol when his thoughts touched on the danger to telepaths. Lytol, always observant, noticed Melvar pulling at her sleeve until the girl looked at him. They seemed to stare at each other for several long seconds, during which time, the girl nodded several times at the boy. Could they both be telepathic? wondered Lytol.

Wansor might only see the children as barely discernible shadows, but his other senses had compensated over the Turns for his now nearly total blindness. "Is something wrong? I do hope I haven't frightened you with any of this." He had heard the newest teaching ballads, so couldn't understand either child being frightened.

Lytol actually smiled at the children as he thought about how people with this Skill would need to be protected. They were far too valuable to Pern's future to risk being identified. "Perhaps we could now discuss your other Skill?"

Felesia opened her mouth, but Melvar's tug on her arm caused her to look down.

F'lar laughed slightly. "It's all right, children. If we can't trust Lord Lytol, Bronze Rider D'ram and Master Starsmith Wansor with this secret, we can't trust anyone."

"Oh, I love secrets!" gushed Wansor toward the children. Then his clouded eyes went wide and his smile melted. "What secret?"

Felesia giggled while Melvar merely bit his tongue to keep from laughing at the man. Both waited for a nod from F'lar to share.

"We're tel-a-pathic," said Felesia.

"Telepathic?" Wansor's smile returned. "Oh, how wonderful! I feared perhaps my mind was failing along with my eyes."

Both children giggled at the man's humorous relief. Lytol and D'ram each suffered coughing fits, while F'lar, G'regg and Dalgarn merely smiled.

A lengthy discussion was held on telepathy and the children were asked for their opinions on how to locate others with similar Skills. Melvar simply stated that kind thoughts would attract some telepaths and Felesia said that, umm, her first friend – she had almost named Brendeen – had been calling out with her mind looking for others like her. That's how the girl had discovered she was not alone with her frightening and annoying abilities.

Further discussion developed a plan for locating other Skilled people, even by less telepathic dragonriders. The children both agreed, with Dalgarn's and G'regg's silent approval, that wondering about other telepaths and thinking about how Benden Weyr was trying to help them, and why, would definitely catch the attention of others. The adults devised a sort of password that riders could think about which a telepath could repeat to the rider if he or she wished to visit Benden Weyr.

By the time the children grew hungry again, despite generous snacks provided by Cove Hold's kitchen staff, all were satisfied with their plan to locate, relocate and organize Pern's Skilled people.

Mnementh and Arlith returned to Benden Weyr, both laden with passengers, to find the youngest dragons feeding near the beast pens. They had been 'hunting' wherries since shortly after their first flights, but were now becoming far more adept, though some still had trouble maintaining adequate flying altitude while focusing on moving targets on the ground. As the big bronzes circled down to a spot near the Living Caverns, the children and Dalgarn watched with amusement as a blue tried to catch a suddenly backtracking wherry and found himself rolling on the ground. He wasn't harmed, and did indeed manage to kill a wherry, though not the one he had been focused on. As he rolled, wings tightly folded to his back, he hit another avian and broke its neck. Unintended, though just as tasty prey in mouth, he launched out of the area and flew up to an available ledge to enjoy his hard-earned meal while allowing another clutch-mate to 'hunt'.

Mara and Klamath stood in the line of weyrlings keeping the wherries from running the entire bowl. The avians were set loose a few at a time to give the youngest dragons experience in hunting within their controlled and carefully observed environment. Once weyrlings were permitted to fly on their dragons, they would begin hunting outside the bowl with considerable assistance from older dragons and their riders.

The youngest dragons worked out amongst themselves who would hunt next. It was a good exercise in team building and cooperation. Older dragons' intervention was seldom needed now that each youngster trusted they would indeed get a chance to hunt.

_Are you hungry this day, Klamath?_

_I ate a fat wherry yesterday. Others have more need to hunt._ He turned his half-grown head toward his rider. _Like you. You need to eat again._

Mara laughed. _We'll eat as soon as you are all full. Watch out!_

The small flock of wherries was trying to escape their confinement. Klamath turned his head with mouth agape, hissing with tongue flicking as he also spread his wings to tighten up the space between him and the next dragon. Most of the wherries screeched and ran back the direction they had come, but one small wherry, dazed or confused or perhaps resigned to the inevitable, jumped right into the brown's gaping mouth. A single snap of powerful jaws ended the poor wherry's confusion.

One guilt tinged eye turned to Mara as Klamath's jaw worked to finish his surprise meal. _Now I won't need to eat tomorrow._


	38. New Skilled

Ramoth's clutch hatched the fifteenth day of the first month before nearly full stands, despite frigid temperatures and bone-chilling winds at Benden Weyr. Only a few minor injuries marred the otherwise joyful event, and all the dragonets found their riders with relative ease. Of the thirty-two hatchlings, only two were bronze and four were brown, but F'lar and Lessa informed anyone who asked that attrition among the larger dragons had been low for the last couple of Turns. The distribution of colors was exactly as needed at this time in the Pass.

Melvar, Felesia and Dalgarn were all flown to Landing at the first sign of the impending hatching. Lessa did not wish to risk two such young people impressing so early – or Dalgarn. Candidates were searched based on their natural telepathic and empathic abilities, at least in part, but very few people of any age had the strong abilities of these three and Lessa did not want that strength to unintentionally draw the interest of a hatchling. At least not yet.

The children were both rather hurt at missing the Hatching, but quite understood Lessa's concern. Melvar later quipped rather sarcastically that they just weren't old enough or wise enough yet.

Hard feelings were soon forgotten when, shortly after arriving at Landing, G'regg suggested they all try locating other Skilled people. The children's success was almost immediate – they found themselves in mental conversation with two other children of similar ages. The friendly and excited _talk_ was interrupted rather abruptly though, by a frightened woman demanding to know who her children were _talking_ to.

Dalgarn joined the conversation and explained that they were visitors from Benden Weyr, where other similarly Skilled people also lived.

_There are others like us?_ The woman sounded both desperate and frightened.

_There are six of us that I know of living at Benden Weyr, _answered Dalgarn.

_Nine that I'm aware of,_ added G'regg. _Not everyone wishes to be known yet, and our weyrleaders respect their anonymity._

_Are you dragonriders then?_

G'regg laughed, out loud and in his thoughts. _I am, and five others. The two youngsters with us this day may be someday as well, if they wish to stand._

_I don't want my children to be dragonriders!_ Again, the woman sounded extremely frightened.

G'regg schooled his thoughts into a more serious mood; this young woman – he wondered at how he'd decided her approximate age – was in such a defensive state, she might be as dangerous as a clutching Ramoth. _That, of course, is your choice, My Lady. Not everyone who resides in a Weyr is a dragonrider._

_Even a Weyr needs drudges, I suppose._

G'regg laughed lightly. _And in Weyrwoman Lessa's Weyr, we _all_ share in the drudge work from time to time._

_And, we enjoy it,_ added Dalgarn.

"There you are!" squealed Felesia as two children appeared from between two buildings, each holding a woman's hand.

The children broke free of their mother's grasp and ran toward their new friends.

"Del! Lori! Get back here! Now!" The woman ran after them, frantic with worry.

Felesia and Melvar ran to meet their new friends. Felesia and the older girl, Lori, hugged while Melvar and the much younger boy merely clasped arms and spun in a circle.

Dalgarn, always protective of his charge, moved closer, but G'regg stayed back, seeing and _hearing_ the woman's fear of him more than of the others.

"Children will be children, My Lady," said G'regg, "and aren't we all excited to meet someone who might understand us?"

The young woman looked quite suspiciously at the bronze rider, and then turned to Dalgarn. "I thought I was crazy, until . . ." she motioned toward her children.

Dalgarn smiled at the pretty woman. "As did I, My Lady, until someone at Benden Weyr contacted me." One finger touched his temple.

G'regg had tried to keep his thoughts friendly and harmless, but, being who and what he was, could not avoid thinking how pretty and young she was. And obviously she was picking up his thoughts. Dalgarn on the other hand, had also noticed her youth and simple beauty, but had focused on her thoughts, which had been mostly memories of how she and her children had been mistreated due to their unusual and sometimes hard-to-hide abilities.

"We're not alone?" One blink would release the dam of tears building in her lovely eyes.

"No, My Lady." Dalgarn held his arms out slightly, inviting an innocent hug. "We are definitely not alone anymore."

The young woman, with arms folded across her slight chest, walked as if hypnotized into the man's arms, and melted in a flood of tears as he carefully put his hands on her shoulder blades.

Lori smiled as she watched her mother's release. When G'regg walked closer to the children, the girl spoke softly. "We tried to tell her there were others like us, but she wouldn't listen any further than she had to."

"How many others have you _talked _to?" asked G'regg.

"Lots!" declared young Del.

Lori laughed. "We've talked to people in Tillek, where Mother is from, and High Reaches, and Keroon – that's where Brendeen is from – and Benden and Southern, and Ista, and Fort, even one boy at Harper Hall, and Nerat and Nabol, and someplace called Half Circle Sea Hold, and several from here in Landing, and . . ." She broke off laughing as the bronze rider's jaw dropped lower and lower. "We're all over Pern!"

"And I thought I was one of a kind." G'regg affected a not quite believable pout.

"I don't know any who say they're dragonriders," offered Del.

"But, Brendeen's 'life-mate' – that's what she calls her – doesn't sound quite like the rest of us."

"Saraneth speaks to you? Oh, what an honor!" The bronze rider's envy was no act.

"Saraneth is Brendeen's life-mate?" asked Lori.

"Who is she?" asked Del.

"Saraneth is a beautiful half-Turn old golden dragon." G'regg's honest awe caused all the children to giggle. "Well, she is!"

The mother had run out of tears and calmed down in Dalgarn's kind embrace. She and Dalgarn had been listening to her children go on about all their long-distance friends. "I didn't know there were so many like us."

Del piped up. "You didn't want to know, Mama."

"So, we didn't tell you," added Lori with downcast eyes.

G'regg guffawed. "Well, you know now, Lady . . ." he waited for her name.

"Elleria, and I'm not a Lady, just a drudge."

The bronze rider grinned mischievously. "I dare you to say that to our Weyrwoman Lessa. Please, let me be there if you do. I love to see that little woman riled."

Melvar couldn't resist teasing his uncle. "Not at you, I wager!"

G'regg's sheepish shrug of one shoulder – and likely his memories of just such incidents – caused even Elleria to laugh at the man.

The group adjourned to a local eating establishment. After orders were taken, they talked aloud about Elleria's work – she cleaned the Admin building in the evenings and helped clean the several Libraries in the mornings – and what Del and Lori were learning from the Harpers at Landing. While the children continued comparing lessons, G'regg asked Elleria how they had come to be at Landing.

Sadness and a hint of shame swept through Elleria's eyes as she began explaining. She had been born a minor Holder's daughter near Tillek Hold. As her Skill became apparent, both parents had grown increasingly suspicious and uncomfortable with her. As soon as she had been deemed a woman, at the age of thirteen Turns, she had been married off to another minor holder further east in Tillek. Having learned to hide her abilities, the man had treated her well, until young Belloria began displaying her Skill. Her holder husband, fearful of such an 'abomination', had then sent them to a friend in Southern Boll by way of trader caravan to be put on an old leaky ship sailing to Southern Hold. At Southern, Toric had been furious to find a single woman and child unaccompanied by any 'productive' male, but Ramala talked him into shipping them to Landing. In Landing, they were at least treated with some respect, and far too much pity in Elleria's opinion. They were housed in a dormitory for young mothers and Elleria found occupation cleaning the college rooms while other mothers cared for Lori, finding the child charming if quite odd. She grew attached to a young journeyman farm crafter, but he left to find a hold when she became pregnant with Delargan and still hadn't returned.

G'regg _heard_ her thoughts of hearing the young man was doing well in his little hold just south of Landing, and growled at the irresponsibility of leaving this little family behind.

As the meal ended, Arlith informed his rider that the Hatching had concluded, which of course G'regg passed on to the others. Kind thoughts from the men had convinced Elleria that perhaps a visit to Benden Weyr wouldn't be so bad. The children would certainly enjoy leaving Landing for awhile, and she would very much like to meet others like them if they were anything like these visitors.

As the adults discussed the weather in Benden Weyr, the children _talked _to two of Lori and Del's other friends. On overhearing there was a dragonrider like them, they had run to the shopping block to see for themselves. They had _listened_ as the group ate, and now wondered if they might visit Benden Weyr as well.

"Uncle G'regg?" Melvar waited for the man's full attention. "How many people can Arlith carry?"

The bronze rider's chest puffed out with pride. "As many as he needs to. Why?"

"We found two more who'd like to come with us."

"Where?" G'regg turned to Felesia. "They're not fat, are they?"

The girl giggled, but answered truthfully. "I don't know." She turned, scanning the passersby, and finally waved at a pair of youngsters.

A boy and a girl, of similar height, and with such similar facial features, they had to be brother and sister, walked hand in hand toward the group, amber eyes wide with fear and hope.

As they approached, G'regg dropped to one knee, putting his head lower than theirs. "How old are you?" he asked the girl.

"Fourteen."

"And you?" he asked the boy.

"Fourteen."

"Where are your parents?"

The girl's eyes dropped to the ground as the boy laid an arm across her shoulders protectively. "We don't know," he said as he rested his head against the girl's.

G'regg, and everyone else in the group, _heard_ the youngsters' angry and hurt thoughts about how their parents had moved away from their hold in the north without telling anyone where they were going after procuring a place for their children in the Landing school.

"Who takes care of you here?" asked G'regg, trying to be gentle but finding it hard to hide his own anger.

"We take care of ourselves," said the boy defensively.

Literal minded, thought G'regg to himself. "Who needs to know if you leave Landing for a while?"

The youngsters looked at each other and _discussed_ between themselves the best answer. "Harper Venderman," answered the boy.

It took a few more questions to determine the Harper's whereabouts – the Library, where these children should be right then; they'd told the man they needed to use the head – and the children's names – Veria and Viron. The Harper was located and easily persuaded to allow the twins an afternoon away from Landing.

As G'regg and Arlith, with Melvar's and Felesia's not so helpful assistance, puzzled how to strap three adults, two very young adults who would not be separated, and four children onto the big bronze's back, a blue rider wearing the shoulder knots of Monaco Bay left a group of weyrlings and approached.

"Where are you headed, Wingleader?"

G'regg winked at Felesia before turning to the smaller man. "Benden Weyr." At his look of shock, the bronze rider grinned and added, "After we find more suitable clothing for these Southerners." The last word sounded almost derogatory.

The blue rider also grinned. "Monaco Bay has a large storeroom full of just such clothing. And these weyrlings need more practice transporting people."

After considerable appeasing of Elleria, the children were each loaded onto young dragons with help from their riders, their weyrlingmaster's assistant and G'regg. The twins refused to be separated so were placed together on a fairly large brown. Safety straps were checked and double checked and everyone was warned about the cold – momentary as it would be – before all launched into the air headed east. They went _between_ only after Arlith and the blue double-checked all the weyrlings' visualizations, and after three short breaths were again in warm air, now over Monaco Bay Weyr.

The headwoman of the Weyr was most gracious in providing not only riding gear, but also warm clothing for underneath, "so no one will be forced to wear heavy riding gear in Benden's wickedly cold caverns".

Everyone was loaded again on different slightly older weyrling dragons, straps were checked, weather in Benden Weyr was checked, and finally all were airborne again.

Blinking out of _between_ was a shock to everyone after the moist warmth of Monaco Bay. The fierce, bitter wind leached any warmth or moisture from exposed faces and tore away Elleria's scream. An added shock to G'regg was the fact that the rims were clear of any dragons with the exception of the lone watch dragon and his rider who sat huddled in protective forelegs high on the fire heights.

The watch dragon welcomed Arlith and the visitors without disturbing his rider, who did at least wave, and strongly recommended the weyrlings land one at a time with older Benden dragons leading them through the whirlwind within the bowl. There were no mishaps, but several of the weyrlings were shaking fiercely as they helped their passengers to the stable ground.

All were quickly ushered into the Living Cavern while weyrling dragons were invited to share low level – to avoid too much wind - weyrs with resident dragons.

Lessa, having heard the watch dragon's instructions to the weyrlings, met them at the door and immediately began helping, along with other weyrfolk, to divest the visitors of their heavy riding gear. G'regg, _hearing_ his weyrwoman's slightly harried thoughts, quickly identified the visitors as highly Skilled people from Landing. So informed, Lessa schooled her thoughts, relegating her natural suspicious nature to the back of her mind; it wouldn't do to frighten these people. She immediately _called_ for Mara and Brendeen who were helping at the Weyrling Barracks. After greeting the blue rider weyrlingmaster's assistant and inviting him and his charges to partake of the refreshments before their return to Monaco Bay, Lessa was properly introduced to each of the visitors as she escorted them to a free table near the hearths where she ordered food, wine and mild, hot cider for them all.

Mara and Brendeen arrived at the Living Cavern in time to _hear_ G'regg explain to the newcomers that jealousy was not uncommon after hatchings. Most parents believed their children to be far better suited to dragons than anyone else's children. He also pointed out those who were actually relieved their children had not impressed; they were wanted back in their holds. He even managed to make Del and Lori, and Elleria to a slighter extent, laugh at some people's attempt at hiding either disappointment or relief. Veria and Viron merely watched and listened to all that was happening.

As G'regg introduced each of the visitors to Mara and Brendeen, Brendeen hugged each of the children – she had _talked_ to each of them in the past – and Veria actually smiled for the first time since meeting the others. Lessa ordered the Skilled weyrlings to find some food, and apologetically left to attend other duties. Brendeen found some hot cider, but Mara found considerably more; helping the new weyrlings was energy consuming work, and they still had to go back. G'regg teased Mara about her full plate as she approached, and Mara explained for all at the table that lots of food was necessary to maintain the strength needed to deal with certain bronze riders.

Verbal conversation covered all the usual topics: how each of the southerners had come to be at Landing, and what they were now doing there. Non-verbal conversation though, covered far more of what the visitors wanted to know about the Skilled people at Benden Weyr and why the weyrleaders wanted them here. When verbal conversation lulled, Brendeen suggested they all go to her weyr – Tianna would be busy with the new weyrlings for some time more.

As the group passed Ayrieth's weyr, the junior queen stretched her neck down from her ledge as if contesting their passage. Brendeen curtsied low and greeted the gold, G'regg bowed low and offered sincere greetings, and Mara half bowed-half curtsied with polite greetings. The visitors each followed the riders' examples with their own variations. Veria held her free hand up toward the gold and was rewarded with a gentle lick of a long tongue, causing the girl to gasp and smile with surprise and joy. Viron smiled as well, equally thrilled with his sister's experience.

Once inside the most junior queens' weyr, they were each met in a different manner by young Saraneth while Brendeen stood near her massive shoulder. She nuzzled the bellies of Del, Lori, Melvar and Felesia, nodded at Elleria, Veria, Viron, and Dalgarn, growled at G'regg though with calmly swirling eyes, and touched her nose to Mara's arm before stretching out to lay her head on her forepaws. She was unhappy about being forced to rest inside with no sunlight to warm her hide, but knew from personal experience this very day that the wind in the bowl stripped away any warmth the sun might provide. Brendeen soothed her with promises of windless sunny days very soon, and then the whole group moved to the inner weyr.

Temporary walls had been constructed to separate the two beds in this queen's weyr and to separate them from the main living area. This area contained seating for all; some on a long padded bench and some on chairs set around a small table or against the walls. Two kitchen drudges entered shortly; one with a tray of snacks and another with pitchers of cold water, klah, warm cider and a skin of wine, and mugs enough for all.

G'regg added black rock to the fire in the hearth while Mara helped Brendeen serve drinks to everyone else. Rainy, with Brendeen and Saraneth's approval, burst into the room and quickly landed on Mara's shoulder, eyeing each of the visitors while tipping his head side to side as if changing his perspective might add more information. After his inspection, the little blue flitted from child to child, introducing himself as he had been taught, and carrying on a brief fire lizard style conversation with each. Even Veria and Viron grinned when Rainy _spoke_ to them. When everyone was seated again, Brendeen began the conversation.

"I was born telepathic like most of you, but I was born to a mother who accepted my . . ." she shrugged. "Shall we say 'difference'? She accepted my Skill – as we call it here – and was determined to help me learn to live with it without alarming others or endangering myself. Dalgarn, I believe you received some early help with your Skill, and Mara and Melvar, I know that you did as well. But what about the rest of you? Did any of you receive any understanding or assistance in dealing with this," she touched a finger to her temple, "when you were young?"

Most everyone shook their head, except Lori. "Mama understood." She looked at her mother, who finished the incomplete thought.

"But I had no idea how to help other than learning to hide it."

G'regg spoke more gently than Mara had ever heard. "I think most of us have learned to hide this ability. It frightens others to a point they simply want us gone." He put an arm over Melvar's shoulders. The boy's loss was still new enough to hurt.

Brendeen continued. "Weyrleaders F'lar and Lessa became aware of telepathy when Mara came to this Weyr under . . . difficult circumstances. Mara, who has always heard dragons, was able to teach both F'lar and Lessa how to communicate telepathically, though, as far as I know, neither can hear non-projected thoughts the way we do. The importance of that ability was soon shared with others, including Sebell, the MasterHarper of Pern, who immediately saw the value of such communication techniques.

"Lessa and F'lar have confided in me that the temptation to use Mara's, and now my, telepathic Skill is almost too strong to avoid. The knowledge any of us could gain simply by listening to the right people could smooth negotiations, determine a person's guilt, and quite likely prevent considerable problems. Mara, I'm told, has resisted using her Skill for what she saw as questionable gains on more than one occasion. As have I."

"And I," added G'regg to everyone's surprise.

Brendeen nodded understanding even though she was unaware of that situation. "In light of how many people are turning up with these Skills, and other Skills, Lessa, F'lar, and MasterHarper Sebell are all concerned that some of us might not be as resistant should rich and powerful people offer to pay lavishly for such services, and possibly for less than honorable reasons. As a result, Mara and I, and now G'regg, Dalgarn, Melvar and Felesia, have been meeting regularly to discuss the ethics of our Skills. When and where and for whom is it acceptable to use our Skills?"

G'regg took over. "We've already decided that not using them is like not walking on healthy legs." When Elleria's chin dropped to her chest, the bronze rider chuckled. "We've all tried it, Lady Elleria, with varying degrees of success, trying to fit in with the people around us. But, it's there, just like those legs, so it's really hard to ignore."

"We, and quite a few others _have_ this Skill and we can't just turn it off," said Brendeen as she looked at each person in the weyr. "It is an extremely useful Skill, but also has the potential of being extremely dangerous."

"And that's why we need rules?" asked young Del.

"That's right, Del! Very good," said Brendeen with a smile.

The boy turned to his sister and grumbled. "Rules are boring."

G'regg's howl of laughter drew everyone's attention. "Isn't that the truth!" He leaned toward the young boy and pretended to whisper, though loud enough for everyone to hear. "The secret to making rules fun is to learn which ones can be broken." A gasp from Elleria provoked more. "But we need to learn the 'whys' before we can do that safely. And that takes time."

"Age and wisdom," grumbled Melvar. "And it takes forever!"

Brendeen chuckled at Melvar and then turned a smile to Del. "I'm sure your mother has told you why following rules is so important." She raised her delicate eyebrows prompting a reply.

Five Turn old Del shrugged and wriggled his nose as he repeated what he considered to be a rather lame explanation. "To keep me safe."

"Not just you," added Brendeen. "Others too!"

Now Del was indignant. "How does staying away from the ocean _and the dolphins_ keep other people safe?"

Elleria closed her eyes and laid a hand on her chest. "You can't swim, Del."

"The dolphins were teaching me!"

"You scared your mother, boy?" G'regg sounded quite disgusted. He held out a beefy hand as he stood to his most impressive height. "Come with me, boy. We need to talk."

Elleria jumped up to protect her son, but Brendeen caught her arm and smiled while Melvar chuckled, Felesia giggled and Mara sent a soothing, _G'regg is harmless, Elleria, but he is a good teacher_. Rainy's soft chirping from the big woman's shoulder calmed her as much as any of the comforting thoughts surrounding her. She looked at her son and nodded, causing his lower lip to quiver pitifully.

"Come along, boy," growled G'regg as he pushed him slightly ahead with his hand covering nearly half of Del's back. The bronze rider grinned and winked back at the others as he and the boy slipped past the heavy curtain to the outer weyr.

When Elleria looked forlornly to Dalgarn for reassurance, he smiled. "Wingleader G'regg has the utmost respect for women, and even more for mothers. All children should learn such respect – especially boys."

Veria and Viron looked at each other and wondered how they could respect a parent who abandoned them in Landing.

"At least they didn't leave you out for Thread!" blustered Felesia with righteous anger.

"And your grandfather didn't have you thrown over a water fall," added Melvar.

To Elleria's surprise, Brendeen giggled and Dalgarn chuckled. Brendeen smiled at Felesia and asked, "Did you respond to words? Or thoughts?"

The girl was indignant, but did blush. "Thoughts, but it needed to be said. They're angry about being left in a safe place."

"And it does need to be talked about, but if they are unwilling to speak aloud about it, we should wait until they're ready."

Felesia bowed her head in acquiescence, and then stood and moved to stand before the twins. "I'm sorry."

Veria put her free hand on the little girl's shoulder. "Did they really leave you out for Thread?"

"They sent me out to find a herdbeast, but we butchered it the day before, so I walked a little way in case they meant a different beast, and then heard everything go quiet. All the life on the plains had hidden. So I turned back to the camp, but Thread was closer than I was, so I ran away, and ran, and called Brendeen, and ran some more, and I could hear the sand snakes eating Thread right behind me and then something grabbed me and everything went black and cold – I thought Thread got me and I was dead. But then we were flying over the desert and we landed and dragonriders surrounded me and I thought they were going to take me back home and I didn't want to go home, but I didn't know where else to go. And then a really nice man brought me here on his dragon. And now I have lots of friends, like Brendeen and Mara, and Dalgarn who loves me more than my father did, and," she wriggled her nose. "Even Melvar, and the dragons talk to me sometimes when they're not busy, and F'lar and Lessa are better grandparents than mine ever were . . ."

Veria had felt the girl's remembered fear, and surprise and shock, and now smiled beautifully at her listing of friends. "You were very lucky."

Viron had placed his hand on Felesia's other shoulder partway through her recitation and now smiled at his sister. "And so were we." To Felesia, he said simply, "Thank you."

G'regg and uninjured Del returned as Felesia bounced with excitement over having even more friends now, and telling them all about the girl's rooms – she had never seen the boy's rooms, but was sure Melvar would tell Viron all about them – and how they got to help in the kitchen and with the dragons.

Del, with only a slight push from G'regg, walked over to his mother. Looking her square in the face, he said, "I'm sorry I scared you, Mama. I really didn't mean to."

Elleria caressed her young son's face before drawing him into a loving embrace. G'regg's chuckle a few seconds later ended the hug. Elleria cleared her throat and patted her son's tunic smooth before asking Brendeen, "Why did you ask if she responded to words or thoughts?"

Brendeen nodded to Dalgarn to provide the answer. With a slight blush, and a nod to Felesia, he said, "Some of us have trouble differentiating between the two when we're young. I did, and Felesia still does sometimes."

G'regg added, "And we all need to learn how to respond when we hear thoughts that might bother us in some way." He turned toward Veria and directed a thought to her.

Veria blushed, bowed her head and tried to hide behind her brother.

G'regg laughed. "Were I not Skilled, I might grow rather curious and even suspicious at that response." When the girl peeked around her brother with a hint of anger, he continued. "After what I saw on the way up here, you had better get used to that thought, young lady, and as pretty as you are, you had better learn to ignore more vulgar thoughts from other men." He grinned mischievously at Brendeen. "Brendeen should be able to help you with that."

The group spent close to a candle-mark discussing how to respond to uncomfortable thoughts, and G'regg pointed out that he would continue to test each of them when they were together. Practice makes closer-to-perfect he reminded the children and Elleria.

Weyr Harper Selikar visited the weyr to discuss the children's training thus far and assured Elleria that Benden Weyr was not lacking in support from Harper Hall. With the progression of the three Printer Halls all across Pern, anything that was available at Landing could be provided to the Weyr, short of Aivas of course. And children were often flown to Landing – just one of the many advantages of living among dragons – to learn about using Aivas' terminals. Benden Weyr would eventually have its own terminal, but F'lar and Lessa were loath to being accused of preferential treatment in that regard.

By the time Del and Melvar started talking about all of Benden Weyr's wonderful food, Elleria, Veria and Viron had all decided they would like to return to the Weyr. Elleria though, needed to give proper notice to Lord Lytol and Bronze Rider D'ram so they could find someone else to clean the Admin building, and the twins also needed to make arrangements with Harper Venderman.

Selikar pulled a small pad of paper from his belt pouch and penned a note to the Landing Harper requesting specifics as to the twins' training. At Elleria's request, he penned nearly duplicate notes to each of her children's Harpers.

Brendeen and Mara excused themselves to return to their duties while Selikar escorted all back to the Living Cavern and introduced the soon to be new arrivals to Manora. The headwoman was pleased to meet them and informed them that the Weyr did indeed have plenty of room for newcomers – there were still quite a few rooms available in the original excavations. She also found time to show them around the Inner Cavern and to introduce them to other weyrfolk while she explained that they would each be asked to help where ever needed until the time came that their particular interests and talents were revealed.

Elleria, seeing and _hearing_ so many truly happy people of all stations at Benden Weyr, was a bit surprised to find herself rather excited about moving here. Surely, she reasoned, the cold would be no worse than at Tillek, and she sincerely hoped Lessa had been correct about the highly unusual ferocity of this day's horrific wind.

Mara and Brendeen did not witness their new friends leaving Benden Weyr on soon to graduate weyrling dragons. They were both helping new weyrlings with their fresh hatchlings. But they did _hear_ their departure, and the anticipation of a quick return.

The bitter cold wind prevented bathing in the lake, so the bathing pools were being used to wash little dragons. Older dragons and flying weyrlings flew south to their favorite beaches if bathing could not wait for a calmer day. Non-flying weyrlings whose dragons were too large for the bathing pools were forced to lug buckets of water to their weyrs for spot cleaning.

By the time class number 2553-2 was called together for evening assignments, Mara's skin from toes to waist was water wrinkled; she, and B'rand and a few other hefty weyrlings in her class, had helped the smaller new weyrlings lift their precious new life-mates into and out of the pools while others helped with feeding, chopping meat, and anything else needed to help the newest residents of the Weyr. She and B'rand stood near the back wall chuckling over their shared discomfort; sitting was not a preferred position for either weyrling this evening, at least not for awhile.

L'ret called the class to order and commended them for their assistance this day. He then admonished them to continue helping the younger weyrlings; they would all be flying Thread together in the not too distant future. After yet another speech on dragonrider teamwork, he grinned momentarily.

"This evening you are free to do as you choose." His eyes sparkled at the reception to this unexpected free time. "However," he growled over the excitement, "I highly recommend that each of you check and double check your riding straps this evening. Tomorrow, some of you will be flying . . . on your dragons."

Without exception, each of the weyrlings expressed their excitement in their own ways. Some merely smiled, others talked excitedly, a few bounced like wherries on hot sand, and a few let out severely restrained yips – they had only just gotten most of the weyrlings to sleep after all.

With class dismissed, Mara asked Normond if he and G'raden were available to take her to their weyr. The short flight to their shared weyr was bittersweet for Mara; this, and tomorrow morning, might be the last time she would fly on Normond behind her loving weyrmate. She held on tighter than normal as they climbed around the now windless and dark bowl; the wind had died when Rukbat had set and neither moon had yet risen.

Klamath greeted her deep in the weyr, sharing her excitement and more than willing to endure yet another fitting of their riding straps, even though he had worn them earlier this very day.

_I grew a lot this day,_ said the brown to his rider as she fastened the straps behind his forelegs.

_You sure have, Klamath! This strap was a little loose this morning. We'll need the next hole tomorrow._ Mara moved to fasten the neck strap with an eager grin. _And look! We're already into a new hole on this strap. I'm glad we have lots of extras._

_I'm almost as big as the bronzes._

_Yes, you are my love. But remember that size isn't as important as skills._

_We're as skilled as any of the bronze weyrlings – at least on the ground._

_And tomorrow, we'll learn new skills in the air!_

_We'll be the best dragon/rider pair on all of Pern!_

Mara chuckled. _We'll be the very best we can possibly be, Klamath!_

Rainy, perched on Klamath's last neck ridge, chirruped in agreement and sprang into the air for a joyful display of acrobatics.

"What's all that about?" asked G'raden from Normond's shoulder.

"He's showing us all the moves we need to learn to fight Thread," explained Mara while shaking her head.

"Ho, ho! Slow down, Rainy! They won't be learning all that tomorrow, little one."

The little blue fire lizard landed on Normond's back and, with his head cocked, chirped a query at the big man.

"Klamath's not even full grown yet, Rainy. He needs to wait a while longer before doing any of those extravagant maneuvers."

"And we need to wait for Weyrlingmaster L'ret's permission, too," added Mara as she began removing the straps.

_I can do everything our little weyrmate did._

"I'm sure you can, Klamath, when you are full grown. Until then, we need to follow all the rules or we may not get to fly together until you _are_ full grown."

_When will I be full grown?_ asked Klamath yet again. He asked the same question, or a variation thereof, every time Mara was forced to slow him down. He, like so many of the other young dragons, was anxious to perform the duty he had been bred for – fighting Thread.

"Not tomorrow, my anxious brown, and not the next day either. The healers will let us know when you are full grown. Until then, we'll do everything the weyrlingmaster tells us to when he tells us to do it, and we'll practice everything we learn so we'll be the best dragon/rider pair ever. Alright?"

With straps removed and itchy spots tended to, Mara and G'raden retired to the riders' weyr. Mara oiled her riding straps while questioning G'raden on his first flight on Normond. Were G'raden a different man, he might have grown irritated with her quest for the most minute of details. But, he truly enjoyed sharing her excitement, and when the straps were sufficiently oiled and properly stowed, he diverted her attention with a far more physical activity until both were too tired to talk or even think about the next day.

* * *

Lesson learned:

DON'T FIGHT THE MUSES!

THEY WIN - OR YOU LOSE!

I hope this will be the end of detail on the Skilled, but who knows? I really want to get this story done. Sigh.


	39. First Flights

Dragonriders of Pern is still not mine - (sigh)

* * *

G'raden woke the next morning alone in bed. He listened carefully for any hints of Mara's whereabouts. She wasn't in the necessary; light from the glow sually leaked from around the hide curtain. Normond was still sleeping so he couldn't – or wouldn't – ask him about his weyrmate's location either. Finally, he heard the slight clink of metal on metal from the direction of the dragons' weyr.

_Klamath?_ If the brown were sleeping as well, he wouldn't hear.

_You're up! We're getting ready for this day, but Normond isn't awake yet, so we're checking the straps again. I grew some more last night!_

G'raden laughed as he pulled on his clothing. _Of course you grew! You'll keep growing until you're done, Klamath._

_Our straps still fit, so we're ready to fly together!_

_Not until your rider has eaten, and done her morning chores._ _The first thing she needs to do is run her laps. _The brown's mental groan caused G'raden to laugh again, making it difficult to fasten the ties on his tunic.

Mara sat on a chair just outside the riders' weyr with a glow half turned, oiling her riding straps yet again when G'raden walked out still slipping on his vest. Rainy stood on one shoulder, chittering quietly into her ear. Klamath sat watching his rider in a position to block any glow light from reaching Normond. Dragon and fire lizard eyes whirled with excitement and Mara's eyes sparkled even in the dim light.

"You know, it is possible to use too much oil," teased G'raden.

Mara's eyes went wide with concern and then squinted as she cocked her head and grinned. "Will you check them for me?" She handed her weyrmate a section of the straps and stood for an early day kiss.

G'raden, after the lingering kiss, ran the strap through well practiced hands. "What time is it? The sky isn't even lightening yet."

"Morning watch started about a candle-mark ago." Mara checked with Klamath who checked with the watch dragon. "It's five and a half hours," she said apologetically.

G'raden chuckled as he ran another strap through his hands. "Getting up so early just means you have to wait all that much longer."

"I know, but I had a bad dream about these straps, so I got up to check them again and then wasn't tired."

Head shaking, the big man said, "I'll bet lots in your classmates had dreams last night. What happened in yours?"

Mara sighed. "It was crazy. I picked up our straps and they fell apart, like they had rotted."

"So you decided to oil them again?"

His understanding smile and his thoughts indicated she had done no wrong so Mara shrugged. "They seem fine to me. What do you think?"

"They're quite passable, the best weyrling straps I've ever seen. And they cause no discomfort to Klamath?"

They both looked to the growing brown whose eyes whirled in excitement with vanishing traces of concern. _They fit perfect. Can we fly now?_

_It's too dark to fly,_ mumbled Normond from the other side of the weyr.

"And we have other work to do first. I have to run laps, and we have to do chores and eat, and we have to go to class . . . and then it will be up to Weyrlingmaster L'ret." Mara rubbed Klamath's muzzle between his eyes as she watched the excitement dissipate. "And I think you need some oil in spots, don't you?"

_It could wait. It only itches a little._

"We'll fly together soon, Klamath. We've waited this long. We can wait a few more candle marks."

Mara rolled up her riding straps and placed them carefully into a carisak – L'ret did not allow weyrlings to put straps on their dragons without permission and sometimes assistance – while G'raden greeted Normond in his normal loving manner. Once it was determined that the massive bronze did not need a bath or any oil, but could stand to hunt later this day, the weyrmates mounted and flew down to the Lower Caverns.

Running on such a frigid day, even without the previous day's wind, was done inside the long passageways cut into the depths of Benden Mountain twenty-five hundred Turns earlier. Anyone running this early was careful to be as quiet as possible to avoid waking any of the weyrfolk before their usual time, so G'raden and Mara did not talk.

With their run complete, G'raden asked Normond to check the time with the watch dragon and learned they still had over a candle mark before either was expected to report for duty. So, G'raden introduced Mara to Benden Weyr's ancient exercise room, something weyrlings weren't normally shown until later in their training. The large room, buried in the depths of the Lower Caverns but with magnificently engineered powerless ventilation, contained specially built equipment designed to work on all parts of the human body. Some of Benden's original equipment was still functional – it had been made that well – but as pieces had deteriorated beyond repair, they had been replicated in Skybroom wood or iron or, more recently, in hardwoods.

G'raden was adamant that Mara not overexert herself; even the slightest injury could preclude her flying this day. It took several reminders of that fact to keep her from exhibiting her normal desire to prove herself. After a mere half candle mark though, she finally admitted that he was right; even lifting what she considered miniscule weights, she was getting tired and a little sore. Much to her dismay she realized she had lost a considerable amount of the strength she had once had.

When Mara asked why weyrlings didn't know about this room, G'raden reminded her of the youthful age of most of her classmates. The Healers believed that youngsters should reach full growth before working too hard on strength building exercises, so weyrlings worked to become functioning dragonriders first. Her class, he said, would probably begin using this room when they got further into self-defense lessons. But, he would speak with L'ret about Mara accompanying him on occasion.

G'raden didn't do any of his normal workout routine this day – he only did so every other day and had done so just the previous day. He did, without much trouble, talk Mara into a long soaking bath complete with some of the massage techniques he had learned at Fort Healer Hall, to ease her 'underused' muscles.

Afterwards, the day began pretty much as normal: Mara oiled Klamath's slightly itchy spots, reported to the weyrling barracks before the required time, her class was assigned morning chores while the older weyrlings helped with the newest class this day, she attended morning meal with her equally excited classmates, and then the first class of the day – more on dragon injuries, ailments, treatments and cures.

When the sun touched the floor of the Weyr, weyrlings were directed outside for the routine sevenday dragon assessments. Straps were to be left in the classroom until needed. Mara fretted briefly over leaving hers after last night's bad dream, but did so with mild reluctance.

Each growing dragon was measured at the withers while standing and from muzzle to tail-tip while lying down. Hearts and lungs were listened to both before and after two full laps at the Weyr's ridge top level. And evaluations, with Mara's, Brendeen's and Dalgarn's help, were made of each dragon's readiness for carrying a load, specifically their riders, into the air. All passed to everyone's immense relief and Lessa congratulated the entire class on their care of their dragons. And then the young, excited dragons were sent to 'rest up' while the weyrlings took their midday meal.

The building excitement was hard to control. L'ret, from the newest weyrlings' table, growled for silence several times, but Mara _heard_ him laugh to himself. He loved seeing so much excitement in young people but still had to maintain discipline. Quite a few younger weyrlings had trouble eating their full meals, but Mara, B'roghe and L'ret reminded them repeatedly about the need for energy if one wished to remain astride one's dragon. L'ret finally barked an ultimatum; either eat everything on their plates – they had made the selections after all – or this afternoon would be spent on ground maneuvers. The last spoonfuls of greens and tubers disappeared so quickly, L'ret crouched low to look under the table for any signs of cheating.

The weyrlings were marched to the barracks with quite a few detours caused by laughter or other signs of excitement, and after a brief lecture on the need for discipline, were directed to retrieve their straps. Several of the youngest, including Cally, ran like . . . children until L'ret barked that they were to walk calmly, like true dragonriders. Despite walking, they were still first back into the classroom.

Mara and B'roghe weren't too far behind Cally and the other youngsters. They both heard Cally's disgusted question.

"What's that smell?"

"Don't touch anything!" barked B'roghe one step and one whiff inside the room. "That's HNO3! Everyone out! Now!"

When weyrlings began exiting the hallway without their straps, L'ret grew suspicious. _Mara?_

_The room smells funny. B'roghe says it's HNO__3__ and had everyone leave._

_Good man. I'm on my way._

With one "Clear the way," all the weyrlings, confused as they were, moved against the walls for their weyrlingmaster. He put a thankful hand on B'roghe's shoulder as he entered the classroom. "Definitely HNO3," he nearly mumbled. Then he turned to B'roghe. "Good thinking, having the youngsters leave. You check that side. Mara, you check the other side. Walk carefully. Don't step in it, or touch it if you find it."

L'ret walked down the middle of the classroom, between the rows of tables, carefully looking each way for any signs. "Mara, what can you tell me about HNO3?"

Mara had already been mentally reviewing the lecture of several sevendays past. "HNO3, also known as nitric acid, in its purest, most concentrated form is a colorless liquid, at least at these temperatures. It's extremely corrosive and, under the right conditions, flammable."

"And what does corrosive mean?"

"It eats things like metals and organic things like Thread. It disinte . . ." A sharp intake of breath. "Shards. I found it."

Both men in the room moved quickly, but still carefully to her sides where she stood like a melting statue; motionless, but deflated. "Whose carisak is that?" asked L'ret, even though he had already guessed.

"Mine, sir," said Mara meekly. Her carisak looked almost normal except that the top was open and the bottom appeared melted – or insect eaten with only shreds remaining. She reached to lift the carisak but was slapped away by L'ret. Enough concentrated acid had been poured into her bag to leak out the bottom as it did its work.

"And whose straps are those?" L'ret pointed to a set sitting in the leak.

Now Mara closed her moist eyes and shook her head. "Cally's, sir."

"Shards." L'ret put a hand on Mara's shoulder. "B'roghe, find our weyrleaders, and tell them what we've found. We'll not move anything until they arrive or send word."

"Yes, sir."

"They're in the Council Chambers," mumbled Mara. When B'roghe stopped and turned to look at her and L'ret cleared his throat, she added, "I heard two riders talking about a Weyrleaders' meeting to take place early this afternoon."

B'roghe nodded to L'ret and left the classroom at a jog.

L'ret turned Mara away from the disintegrating straps she stared at with a blank face. "Mara, what's on the minds of the other weyrlings?"

The weyrling blinked at her weyrlingmaster – the first blink he had seen in several minutes – and then looked over his shoulder with unfocused eyes. "They're all worried, confused," a slight smile touched her lips. "They're wondering if we'll get to fly this day."

"And B'rand?"

Mara glared at L'ret. "Did he . . . ?" The memory of Klamath's food being poisoned had surfaced like a frantic dolphin in the sea.

L'ret stopped her quickly. "We don't know." He looked away briefly. "We may never know now." He studied her face, watched the realization sink in, and then squinted as if to see her more clearly. "But he's displayed other worrying behavior."

Mara nodded. B'rand was a troubled boy, very angry most of the time for no apparent reason. But could he have done this? And how? The Weyr's agenothree was all locked away in a storage cavern; easily accessible during Thread Fall, and training and repair sessions, but otherwise locked up for safety reasons. She _listened_ particularly for B'rand's thoughts, and found them rather quickly. "Just like the others, sir, but he's angry at the delay."

"No surprise there," said L'ret. "I'll ask you to keep your ears open this day. To anyone and everyone. We don't know that a weyrling did this Mara; lots of people have access to this room. Let me know if you hear anything suspicious, even slightly."

"Yes, sir." Mara nodded her comprehension and fought to keep tears from escaping her filling eyes. Without straps, she and Klamath would not be flying this day. It would take days of uninterrupted work to replace her straps and L'ret had made it clear to all that using borrowed straps was not acceptable. A dragonrider was responsible for his or her straps.

"Well," said L'ret in false lightheartedness. "Despite the disappearing food at the tables, it seems we'll still be doing ground maneuvers for awhile this day." He motioned Mara to the door with exaggerated politeness. "Shall we?"

Mara tried to smile at the kind man, but gave up when a tear was squeezed out of one eye. "Yes, sir." She turned to the exit before wiping the tear away.

L'ret put a hand on the big woman's shoulder. "Don't fret, Mara. You'll be flying that big handsome brown very soon."

A smile found its way to her face without effort now. So, L'ret _had_ noticed how big Klamath was. "Thank you, sir."

.

Lessa and F'lar knew long before B'roghe's arrival what had happened at the weyrling barracks. Klamath had bellowed when Mara found her damaged straps and, of course, Ramoth had quickly determined the cause of his distress and helped him to calm down.

Benden's weyrleaders met B'roghe at the bottom of the queen's weyr steps, with the newly consummated Western Weyr weyrleaders right behind.

B'roghe bowed to Lessa and F'lar, and then to the oddly contradictory couple behind them. He didn't know who they were, but recognized their weyrleaders' knots. The gold rider stood quite tall, nearly as tall as B'roghe, thin as a sapling, and had very fair but sunburned skin and long brown curls. The bronze rider was nearly a head shorter, quite stout, and either shaved his head or was bald. Both were quite young, perhaps mid third decade, thought B'roghe. And both seemed not yet comfortable with the heavy responsibilities inherent to their newly braided shoulder knots.

"Weyrlingmaster L'ret . . ." began B'roghe.

"Sent you to repeat what Ramoth has already informed us of with far more speed," snapped Lessa.

B'roghe had heard of Lessa's seeming mood swings and, of course, of her renowned temper, but had never been the focus of either. Having worked from time to time with his own grandfather who could become quite moody under the weight of his self imposed responsibilities, he took it in stride. He bowed with a humble smile and said simply, "Yes, Weyrwoman." When he stood, three of the weyrleaders were smiling. He focused, though, on the most ferocious of them all – Lessa.

"Well," she huffed. "We'll not waste your efforts on something the dragons can do. Please find Harper Selikar. We'll need his help with this incident."

B'roghe bowed again. "Yes, Weyrwoman." And jogged to the other side of the bowl.

G'rald grinned up at F'lar. "That was Lord Holder Groghe's grandson?"

"He has his grandfather's charm," said Prelia.

Lessa grinned at her much younger contemporary. "And, so far, none of his gruff mannerisms."

"That could easily change as he undertakes more responsibility." F'lar now grinned at his weyrmate. "At least he stands up well under pressure."

All chuckled as they walked toward a less amusing task.

Outside the weyrling barracks, as the rest of the class formed up with their dragons for more ground maneuvers, Cally hugged Mara's waist fiercely. She fought a losing battle with tears for her damaged straps and fought with equal intensity anger at Mara's repeated questioning of her willingness to be her friend.

"At least you're not the only one who can't fly this day," said the tiny weyrling into her friend's less bulky waist.

Mara smiled at the unspoken addendum; Cally, and Mynth, still wished someone else had been the other victim.

"Straighten up, weyrlings. Here come the weyrleaders. All four of them," said L'ret.

Cally stood away from Mara. "Four?"

"I can still count Little Weyrling. I'm not that old yet." L'ret put a kind hand on each of the weyrling's shoulders and guided them toward the approaching weyrleaders.

"You're not old!" said Cally.

"Ha! Good answer," said L'ret with a wink that had the desired effect.

Cally walked behind Mara while she wiped her tears away with a smile for her weyrlingmaster.

Mara fought a blush with a touch of anger when the shorter of the men approaching seemed shocked by her "huge" size. When she _heard_ "Fardles, she heard that," she grinned at the man and bowed her head apologetically.

_Mara?_ asked Lessa.

_You told them about my hearing?_

_Yes. We trust them both._

_Well, he's just realized you weren't joking._

_You didn't talk to him, did you?_

_No, but I need to work on my reactions to certain thoughts._

Lessa's lips twitched as they closed on the weyrlings. She made introductions all around before they all walked back toward the classroom.

"Weyrling Mara," began F'lar, and paused as he studied her face.

"Yes, Weyrleader?"

"Tell us what happened."

"Yes, sir." Uh oh, thought Mara. That intense stare indicated that he was looking for more than it might seem. Mara resisted the urge to _listen_ to him and gave as detailed a report as she could. She left out nothing and finally offered an observation.

"It looks like someone opened my carisak and poured undiluted HNO3 into the center of the rolls. They used enough that it leaked out of my bag and caught the edge of Weyrling Cally's carisak."

As they approached the entrance to the barracks, F'lar touched his temple as if scratching a minor itch. "Any idea who might have perpetrated this crime?"

Mara glanced around quickly – there were other people far too close, and of course Cally. "No, sir," was all she said.

F'lar nodded and led the way into the classroom. When the door was closed, he turned again to Mara. "Absolutely no idea?" Again, he scratched his temple.

"No, sir." Mara turned to her side. "Cally?"

"I don't know why anyone would want to do this, Weyrleader F'lar. To Mara, or to me."

F'lar nodded at the little girl.

Lessa spoke kindly. "Weyrling Cally, perhaps you should join your classmates outside."

"But . . ." Cally made it no further as L'ret cleared his throat loudly.

The weyrlingmaster growled, "You will follow orders, Weyrling."

Cally almost repeated her last word, mouth poised for the first consonant. Instead, she lowered her eyes with, "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." She turned to leave, but was turned back by yet another throat clearing. A sideways motion of L'ret's head prompted her to turn to the weyrleaders. "Good day, Weyrleaders," she said with a curtsey. Two fingers tapping her weyrlingmaster's chin prompted her to grin. She nodded and left the room.

When the door was closed, Prelia chuckled. "She's adorable!"

"But only eleven?" added G'rald.

Lessa put hands to her waist, cocked her head childishly and tapped a foot much as Cally might do. In a fair approximation of the weyrling's voice she said, "Twelve . . . next month!"

Everyone laughed or giggled at Lessa's impersonation, but G'rald looked worried.

"How . . ?" he began.

Lessa recognized and appreciated his concern for such a young weyrling. "Sequestration," she answered before he could complete his question.

"When?" he asked, not even trying to complete the thought.

F'lar grinned guardedly. "Any day now, according to Mnementh."

Prelia spoke next. "I'd very much like to see how you handle such a situation."

Lessa smiled. "I'll ask Ramoth to inform you when the time comes."

"But now," began F'lar, turning toward Mara. "Do you have any idea who might have done this?" He pointed to the still deteriorating carisak.

To punctuate his last word, the door opened to admit Harper Selikar, slightly out of breath, and Weyrling B'roghe, breathing normally. F'lar's eyes rolled and Mara grinned.

After determining Selikar had all the available information, B'roghe was sent out to join his classmates. His concern for his fellow weyrling was noticed by all in the room. Mara smirked at him to indicate all was as well as could be at the moment. When she turned back to the weyrleaders, F'lar glared at her as if she were to blame for all the interruptions, but with a gleam in his eye.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I have no idea who did this. I've been listening to anyone and everyone – my apologies, Weyrleader G'rald – but I haven't heard anything even slightly suspect."

Both F'lar and Lessa sighed and shook their heads. "Where's Brendeen?" asked Lessa irritably. "I asked her to join us here."

Mara _listened_ briefly and smiled. "She's trying to soothe Saraneth. She's really upset about what happened and is trying to help Ramoth find out who did it."

Lessa glared as if Mara had upset her. "That explains why so many of the other dragons are agitated. Excuse me for a moment." Her eyes lost focus as she spoke to the young gold. _Saraneth, dear. Please let Ramoth handle the questioning. You can learn a great deal by simply listening to how she handles the situation._

_As you wish, Weyrwoman._

Mara grinned at the impatience of Klamath's golden sister and watched as the four weyrleaders and L'ret walked around the room, opening carisaks, looking for any clues. Dalgarn entered and was questioned with results similar to Mara's – he had _heard_ nothing to arouse any suspicion. Brendeen finally arrived once Saraneth was mollified into resting and listening to Ramoth. Same results.

Prelia, almost apologetically, cleared her throat and said to Lessa, "After you told me about all the telepaths you've been hosting, I did some research at Landing. Did you know it's possible to shield one's thoughts from a telepath?" At nods from both Brendeen and Dalgarn, she continued. "Some people even have that ability quite naturally."

"That I was unaware of," said Brendeen with surprise.

"And in some cases, a mental aberration can conceal certain thoughts," added the Western Weyrwoman.

F'lar harrumphed. "That is not comforting news, Prelia."

"I suppose," said Lessa, "we're forced to discover the culprit using old-fashioned methods."

Mara's mood was beginning to change. She had been quite upset, almost ready to cry over the injustice of this attack on her and Klamath. But now anger was bubbling to the surface as if in a slow boil – just a bubble or two right now, with more sure to follow. So this 'skill' might not be of any use in this case? How many other attacks would she and Klamath have to endure? This one didn't pose any threat to Klamath's health like the last one, but what more would come in the future? If _listening_ wouldn't help, how could she protect her sweet brown?

_Mara?_

"What," she snapped, and immediately grimaced in chagrin. "I'm sorry, Brendeen."

The gold weyrling smiled sweetly, understandingly as she put a hand on Mara's arm. "The people of Pern have been solving crimes for twenty-five hundred Turns – without our Skills."

"Not all of them," mumbled Mara. She clenched her eyes and fists closed and then turned apologetically to F'lar. "I know everyone tried to find out who put fellis in the meat, but . . ."

F'lar did not flinch. He stood steadfast and with a solemn face, said, "We've failed – you, Klamath, every other weyrling in this Weyr and, indeed, every other dragonrider on Pern."

Lessa put a hand on his arm but spoke to Mara. "We can only hope _this_ criminal was not as thoroughly deceptive."

"And if it's the same person?" asked Mara.

"Eventually," said F'lar with fierce determination. "This . . . person . . . will make a mistake, and we will deal harshly with him – or her."

A knock on the classroom door interrupted Mara's next pessimistic thought.

F'lar kept his eyes on the weyrling as he said, "Enter."

G'regg walked into the room with something in a gloved hand. "We found this, F'lar." He opened his hand to reveal a small glass vial with a glass stopper. "It was in one of the kitchen compost buckets. We're still searching."

Selikar sighed loudly and shook his head. "So, we now know the criminal was in the Lower Caverns sometime since this happened."

"And that includes ninety percent of the people in this Weyr," added Lessa.

F'lar tipped his head slightly at G'regg. "And you've seen or heard nothing to hint at who might have done this?"

"No, sir. We are trying to figure out how anyone could have gotten this," he held up the vial. ". . . out of the storage room."

"And your young protégé – B'rand?"

G'regg raked his ungloved fingers through his short hair, stopping to scratch just forward of his ear. "He's as upset as everyone else about the delay."

Mara was excused to rejoin her class while some full riders cleaned up the mess. A few of her classmates shot her dirty looks over the incident, but most were sympathetic to her plight – until L'ret informed everyone that no one would ride until either the perpetrator of this senseless damage of Weyr property was found or Mara and Cally remade or repaired their straps.

As Mara and Cally couldn't ride without straps – at least as weyrlings under L'ret's control – they were excused to visit the Weyr Tanner during ground maneuvers. Cally needed only one section to fully repair her straps and finished that by the end of the day, but Mara needed a full set. She spent every free moment and considerable sleep time working on her new, improved straps with longer sections to better fit her larger and still growing dragon. She still had to do most of her chores and classes, but was excused from anything involving riding Klamath.

That first evening, Mara worked on cutting her straps in G'raden's weyr while he attended a long ago scheduled research session in Landing. As she worked, she found herself growing more and more angry. Who would do this to her and Klamath? And why? What had she done to deserve this injustice? The thoughts circled round and round in her mind, gaining momentum with each circuit, until she dropped her lengths of wherhide and slammed the rock wall with the palm of first one hand and then the other.

Klamath, frightened awake by the intensity of her anger and frustrated by his inability to calm her, called for help from Normond. Normond, after consulting with G'raden, contacted Arlith who contacted Klamath and assured him that he and his rider would be there soon to help. Klamath, knowing how his rider felt about the obnoxious G'regg, wasn't too sure he had done the right thing, but waited anxiously for Arlith's arrival. Since he didn't seem able to calm his rider, he concentrated on soothing Rainy who was equally distraught.

G'regg arrived to find Mara trying to demolish the wall between weyrs. "Mara!"

"What are you doing here?" she snapped.

"Come with me."

"I will not!"

"Weyrling, you will do as ordered by a Wingleader. Come with me."

She _listened_ very carefully and discovered the man was not in any way teasing. He was dead serious. She smacked the wall one more time before walking toward him.

G'regg deftly grabbed one of her arms to look at her hand. "Shards, woman! You keep that up and you won't fly for another sevenday." He _listened _to her as well and _heard_ her curse her own stupidity, which only made her even more angry.

Once Mara was seated behind him on Arlith, G'regg directed his bronze to the southern entrance of the lower caverns. He led her into the exercise room which emptied rather quickly, handed her a set of well padded gloves which she scoffed at, and showed her how to use the punching bag. Each time she scoffed, or eventually slowed down, he would taunt her just enough to renew her efforts at reaching him through the bag he held steady.

Mara was angry at far more than the destruction of her riding straps. She had been suppressing anger deep in her mind for the last twenty-five Turns, ever since her mother had died. Her father had punished her for even the slightest hint of anger. And now G'regg, that usually lecherous, always obnoxious, sharding wingleader was bringing it all out, pricking at each festering pustule until it exploded with a ferocity Mara had never experienced and was now so embarrassed about she got even more angry.

Having been notified of an 'incident' by Duranth, L'ret stood at the entrance of the room, shaking his head at the thought of such a sweet and kind woman being driven to so much anger. He could hear in G'regg's taunts that the anger had been building for Turns, but knew this days 'attack' had brought it all to a head.

F'lar too had been notified, and soon joined L'ret. It was good to see her release all that anger in a safe, controlled manner. His estimation of G'regg's Skills rose tremendously as he realized how the man used his Skill to pull out all of Mara's anger, apparently from many Turns past. What an asset this man was to Benden Weyr, and what an asset other Skilled people could be to all of Pern.

As L'ret shook his head yet again, F'lar laid a hand on his shoulder and spoke quietly. "This release will do her good. She can start fresh and learn how to deal with anger as it occurs. Faranth knows, she'll have plenty of opportunity to practice."

Both men left as Mara's tirade shrank to a trickle, with punches accompanied by sobs as often as grunts or growls.

G'regg took her back to G'raden's weyr with little resistance and they talked, each sitting braced against their dragons, until her weyrmate returned from Landing. Anger was natural, said G'regg. How it's dealt with determines the character of a person. He told her, with uncharacteristic sincerity, how he admired her ability to shield others from her anger, and also told her in no uncertain terms, she would need to learn new methods of dealing with even miniscule anger or it would only fester again. They had time to discuss some of those methods before Normond landed on his weyr ledge.

G'regg stood with a mischievous grin to greet G'raden. "Glad you're back brother! My self-restraint was flagging terribly. Another minute or two and I could not have resisted your lovely weyrmate any longer."

G'raden only laughed, having complete trust in his life-long friend, but G'regg watched Mara with an increasingly malevolent grin. "If that bothers you Mara, say so."

Mara knew he was teasing, and testing, but that didn't stop her anger at his lewd behavior. "Go away, G'regg." When the man only laughed and strolled in her direction, she tried one of his recommended methods. She puffed up, glared at him, and repeated, "Go. Away. G'regg. Now."

"And if I choose to stay?"

Mara swung an arm up and slapped his shoulder – not hard, but enough to sting her already sore hand.

G'regg's grin changed to a kind smile. "Feel better?"

Mara continued to glare as she considered his question. She did feel better, but embarrassed. But, she had the right to be angry, or so he had said, and she had expressed that anger without hurting the big fool. So, she looked into his now kind eyes and nodded once. "I'll feel even better when you leave."

Now he laughed, not in his cruel, teasing way, but with honesty. "Fair enough." He turned to leave and as he passed G'raden, said, "She's a quick learner."

The two men clasped forearms before G'regg mounted Arlith. Before he could launch from the ledge though, Mara caught his attention. "G'regg?" When he turned his smile to her, she said sincerely, "Thank you."

He nodded once just before Arlith stepped off the ledge.

.

During the next several days, F'lar and Lessa met several times with all the bronze and gold riders and some of the weyrfolk to review and revise security procedures, and to try to anticipate any future problems with their lady brown rider.

It took Mara four days to complete her new straps, and to soften them enough with oil to not bother Klamath. Both she and Klamath had been tempted to let minor annoyances slide, but they decided together that waiting another day or two would be far better than damaging his hide and possibly having to wait even longer.

When her straps had been approved by L'ret and their comfort confirmed by none other than Ramoth, the class was taken out for their first flights.

Over the last few days, L'ret had the class pay particular attention to older dragons landing and taking off. It became clear to most of the weyrlings that each dragon had his or her own style. Some leaped nearly straight up and some leaped more forward than upward when launching into the air. Landings could be as graceful as a floating feather or as awkward as a running herdbeast depending on the dragon's and rider's moods or any number of other variables.

Cally was first to be ordered to mount Mynth. Her straps were checked by two weyrlingmaster's assistants before L'ret gave her, and all the weyrlings, very concise instructions.

"You are to lie down along your dragon's neck. On your first flight, you will remain along your dragon's neck until after landing. You are _not_ to sit up for even an instant on this first flight. Do you understand, Weyrling Cally?"

"YES, SIR!" Cally beamed and bounced over being first in this class to fly.

"Do so now, Weyrling Cally." When she lay along Mynth's neck, the assistants helped her find where her arms should go; one hooked around a neck ridge and the other down partway around her green's neck. "Now, you will instruct your dragon to launch and fly _one_ complete circuit around the bowl. You will then land right back where you started from. Is that understood, Weyrling Cally?"

"YES, SIR!" Even lying down, she managed to bounce, giggling with anticipation.

Other weyrlings, especially Mara, could not help but smile, giggle or outright laugh at the excitement in their young classmate.

"Repeat your instructions, Weyrling Cally." When the girl repeated almost word for word her weyrlingmaster's instructions, L'ret harrumphed. He grimaced with extra ferocity at the girl who only giggled more. "You may fly, Weyrling Cally."

Mynth took a few steps away from the assistants, reared onto her hind quarters while spreading her nearly translucent wings, and lunged into the air. Cally's squeal of laughter was heard throughout the bowl, and even into some of the lower caverns, causing a considerable number of people to run outdoors. The green weyrling laughed all the way around Benden's Weyr bowl. Weyrfolk, riders and dragons alike laughed and pointed, riders and dragons remembering their first flights together. When Mynth landed, cheers went up throughout the Weyr and Cally cried with joy – or perhaps from the bitter cold of Benden's air.

Mara was next. L'ret told the class that the targets of such a despicable act deserved this preferential treatment – this time. Mara mounted Klamath, fastened her straps, waited not-so-patiently while L'ret's assistants checked them, and lay down along the left side of one neck ridge wrapping her right arm around the next ridge. Her left arm wasn't long enough to reach even the middle of his large neck, but she considered it was at least useful for balance.

When L'ret told her to fly, she squeezed the ridge in her hand as tight as she could. _Is that too tight, Klamath?_

_No. Are you ready, my rider?_

_I hope so, my handsome brown. Let's go!_

Klamath turned his head to either side, checking for clearance, sat back on his haunches and spread his beautiful wings. _Are you sure you're ready?_ he asked with a bit of mischief.

_YES. Let's do this. NOW!_

So he launched, pushing Mara back into his last neck ridge. Shards, she thought, am I glad these straps are tight. Mara marveled at the play of muscles in Klamath's whole body, especially his chest as he beat his wings to gain altitude. They flew first over the lake toward the southern wall, still increasing their distance from the ground. Mara saw riders near the lake ready to tend their dragons who were in the lake. She saw herd beasts and wherries scattering in the beast pens, and then Klamath banked left.

Mara had tried to remain stoic, but being tipped toward the ground forced a rather loud "Hooooo" from her grinning face.

_Are you all right?_

_Fine, my love. Oh, this is fun!_

Klamath huffed as he continued around the bowl. He leveled off at about half the height of the tallest peak and glided more than halfway along the eastern wall before beating his wings again. As they banked left again and began the flight back toward the lake, Mara caught sight of her weyrleaders standing on Ramoth's ledge. Lessa waved from beneath F'lar's possessive arm, while he merely grinned. Lots of people waved, but Mara didn't dare raise her balancing arm to wave back. She hoped they understood, and then laughed because they probably knew all too well.

Klamath flew all the way to the southern wall before banking sharply to return along the first leg of his flight, and then glided down gracefully, back-winged just above the ground and seemed to float to a smooth landing.

Now Mara laughed. She could not control it. _Oh, Klamath, that was wonderful! You are a wonderful flyer!_

_And you are a wonderful rider. Can we fly Thread now?_

_Ho ho! No my dear. First I have to learn to ride sitting up so I can give you firestone. And you have to learn to chew firestone, and . . ._

Klamath turned somewhat melancholy. _When Duranth's rider says we can?_

_That's right love. When L'ret says we're ready, we can fly Thread._

_Will that day ever come?_

_We flew together this day! That's one more step in the training process, Klamath. We're doing good! It won't be long now, my love._

L'ret grew worried when Mara stayed lying down on Klamath. She grinned like a simpleton, but her eyes were closed and she still held firmly to the brown's neck ridge. "Mara?" Her eyes snapped open and she laughed.

"Oh, sorry, Weyrlingmaster. We were talking."

L'ret nearly laughed when Duranth relayed Klamath's half of the conversation. But instead, he growled. "You can talk after you've dismounted, weyrling."

"Yes, sir," said the still grinning brown weyrling as she sat up and began unfastening her straps.

The class was then separated into several groups, one for each pair of assistants and full riders. Everyone was given a chance to fly their dragon one time around the bowl. Everyone was given the same exact instructions. The order weyrlings were selected seemed to be totally random, but Mara noticed that those showing the least patience were held back longer than those who encouraged their classmates and cheered their achievements.

Brendeen and Tianna were among the first to fly and the whole Weyr watched with delight and pride. B'roghe was the first bronze weyrling to fly this day, and Angalyn one of the first greens, but D'don was held up until several other blue riders had flown. B'rand was the last weyrling to take his first flight, and, sure he knew his dragon's ways better than the weyrlingmaster, he tried to sit up on the last leg of the flight. As a result, Tagamarth's nervous landing caused him to be thrown forward, catching the bronze's rock-solid neck ridge in the center of his chest. After he was removed from his frantic dragon's back and was helped to regain his breath, he was walked to the Healer's Cavern. Mara had calmed Tagamarth during his rider's removal and she and B'roghe removed his riding straps, both assuring him his rider would be fine.

And then class 2553-2 was permitted one more flight around the bowl, and no one complained about lying on their dragon's neck.

From then on, the class flew at least twice a day, one lap lying down to start and then two laps at a time. The next day, L'ret allowed riders to sit up after takeoff until just prior to landing. In this way, weyrlings learned new balancing techniques unique to flying. Within a sevenday, they were permitted to sit part way – but still next to the neck ridge – during both takeoffs and landings.

B'rand, due to the massive bruising on his slight chest, was not permitted by the Healers to fly for three days, so was far behind his classmates. After many hours of talking with G'regg during his recuperation though, he was very careful to follow L'ret's instructions to the letter.

L'ret kept meticulous notes on the consistency of each young dragon's takeoff and landing performance, and when a weyrling seemed ready, he permitted him or her to sit up through the full flight. Mara was first and had a hard time tempering her pride in Klamath.

By the middle of the second month, the entire class was sitting fully upright during their half-candlemark flights around the interior of Benden Weyr. Soon, the weyrlings were flying in small groups of three. The largest dragon of the three would normally lead the other two through patterns determined by the weyrlingmaster's assistants according to L'ret's detailed plans. Sometimes three greens would fly together and the leader was chosen at random. Each weyrling/dragon pair was given the opportunity to lead a formation. L'ret and his assistants kept notes on leadership talents: the concern a leader displayed for those he/she led; the leading dragon's communications with his/her followers, how each dealt with prearranged problems that arose, and so on.

A sevenday after the last weyrling was permitted to sit full time, the class was led outside the Weyr to a large open bluff for a lecture on weather, clouds and accompanying air currents. Flying time was used to experience different weather phenomenon and the duration of those flights increased daily.

By the beginning of the third month, the weyrlings were hunting nearby forests for their dragons' meals. When a wild herd was spotted, weyrlings were dropped off in a safe location while their dragons hunted and older riders lectured on various subjects.

Despite continuing investigations, Mara's and Klamath's attacker would not be found for some time. Though Mara and Klamath were constantly watchful for any further attacks, none occurred until the fourth month, just before _between_ training was scheduled.

* * *

Again, sorry for the long delay.

The muse insisted on working on my original. If anyone's interested, three short stories, a prelude to the book in progress, are available at Amazon;

just search for 'People of Utopia'.

Thank you all for your patience, your kind and helpful reviews, and your continued interest in this 'little' story.

I tried to do "HNO3" properly, but didn't like it, so let's just pretend.


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